Hey Guys! I hope you're liking it so far! If not just tell me! I just wanted to say all of your reviews have helped me dish out chapters every day, as your support is awesome as always :D I just wanted to reply to Honeywell's review about Bethany's decisions in the previous chapters:
That is an awesome way of looking at her particular situation, as she is really conflicted as to who she thinks she belongs with. Helping Bucky out with the memory loss was supposed to give her some closure, that's pretty much the only reason she lies to Steve about the whole thing. Bucky was her first time letting herself love someone more than a family member, her first love to be dramatic. The way that she lost him in Down To Earth really shook her to the core, and letting go of that feeling takes a while. Sam, at the moment, was just a distraction, but she still obviously cares deeply for him as well. Steve is a little complicated, as they have been through so much together. Like, literally the same thing. They're both Super Soldiers, they both were taken form their time, and both lost Bucky at the same moment. I'll delve deeper into that in the next chapters, but yeah. Thank you for your interest in my story though!
Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy!
The night felt endless as Bethany lay unmoving against her uncomfortable mattress. She wasn't entirely sure if it was made of the right material in the first place. It's lumpy interior pressed awkwardly against her bare back, but nonetheless, she continued to stay firmly still, consumed by conflicting thoughts. She stared at the plain, cracked ceiling, lost within her own claustrophobic mind teething with doubt and resentment. The growing guilt towards her lies gnawed at her empty stomach, prying open the can of worms she tried to ignore from her time with Bucky.
Steve will never forgive me for hiding this, she thought shamefully, raising her hand to rub her heavy eyelids.
Although it was the first day towards Bucky's recovery, she knew without a doubt that Bucky wouldn't grow to trust her. He didn't know who she was. What they used to be. It meant nothing now. She was just another face inside his tormented mind that he couldn't recognize. Bucharest was a charming city, she had to admit, but it wasn't Washington. It had been nearly a year since she was dug up from her self-induced stasis, thrown into a whirlpool of modern technology and alien civilization. This new world was intimidating, but staying in cosy Washington seemed like something she could swallow.
Impulsively travelling across the globe to an unfamiliar location didn't feel as good as she had hoped. The smells, the noises, and the people were different to what she had grown accustomed to. She had Steve to help her guide her along, to help develop and thrive in a society that had taken her off guard. She missed him with every passing moment, but she couldn't bare to think of him at a time like this. The Avengers would distract him from trying to locate Bucky, as saving the world seemed extensively more crucial than searching for a ghost.
You don't know that, her conscience persisted, adding fuel to the aching guilt residing in her chest.
She closed her eyes immediately, forcefully ignoring her persistent thoughts laced with shame and regret. She regretfully remembered the lengths that Steve endured to save Bucky's life, to protect his childhood best friend. Writhing in impatience, she turned onto her side, leaning against her stiff arm in an effort to expel the negative thoughts.
Enough, she warned herself, clinging to the stale bed sheets with frustration.
Blaming myself isn't gonna help anyone.
Deciding sleep was the essential remedy for a guilty conscience, she slowly closed her exhausted eyes. Avoiding the troubling scenarios plaguing her tormented mind, Bethany drifted effortlessly into a deep slumber.
"I have to admit, I'm surprised you didn't make a run for it." Bethany observed, raising her eyebrows as she sat down in one of Bucky's kitchen chairs.
As per usual, he didn't respond, frowning at her presence with stubborn silence. She rolled her eyes at his impatience, and indicated at the seat in front of her for him to sit. Uneager to comply, he collapsed into the wooden chair, slumping awkwardly against the seat. He placed his tense hands over his thighs, seemingly preparing himself for what was to come.
"Alright then. Let's get started. I know you said you couldn't remember anything, but I've picked out some key words that might help jog your memory." she began, crossing one leg over the other.
She placed her sweating palms on her lap in an effort to hide her nervousness from his sharp eyes. She could tell he was uncomfortable, but it wouldn't help relieve the situation if he could read her like an open book. Bucky continued to stay quiet, his cautious eyes searching her placid face. He didn't reply, once again, prompting her to progress.
"When we fought in the war 70 years ago, we were in a particular squad. The Howling Commandos." she started slowly, watching his expression carefully.
His mouth twitched at her words, furrowing his eyebrows in concentration.
"I think...I remember...blue." he answered, glancing up at her apprehensively.
She frowned at his response, as she was caught off guard from his reply.
"Blue? Why blue?"
"I don't know. That's all that comes to mind."
His words were short and decisive, as he was obviously annoyed with her constant questioning. She sighed calmly, refraining herself from reacting towards his impulsiveness.
Don't be so hard on him. You both need time to adjust, a tiny voice warned inside her head.
"Ok. Blue. That's a start. Let's move on to something a little more prominent... Steve Rogers? He was a pretty big part of your past life-"
"No." he interrupted bluntly, hastily rising from his chair.
It squeaked against the dusty floorboards, the sound screeching uncomfortably against her unprepared ears. She turned her head towards him, frowning in sudden confusion against his brash actions.
"Bucky we need to do this-" she started cautiously, mirroring his movement with slight impatience.
"We? I was doing fine without your 'help'." he snapped, clenching his fists by his side furiously.
"Oh really? Then why did you break into my house ASKING for my help?" she retorted, crossing her arms over her tightening chest.
"You kicked me out. In the end it helped better than you ever would've."
She could feel her buried rage threatening to take over her judgement, but calmly quelled the sensation with a long sigh.
Get over it. You need to help him. No matter what he says.
"Alright Bucky I get it. You don't remember me. But we need to work together on this. I'm trying to help you remember who you were-"
"Yeah. I don't remember you. And with the way this is going, that's a good thing." he muttered angrily.
Her bottled frustration was at it's uncontrollable breaking point, as she glowered at his fuming figure with rising resentment.
"I sacrificed a lot to get here, do you understand? The least you could do is humor me for one fucking second."
"I do remember Steve, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear?" he yelled furiously, his broad chest rapidly rising and falling sharply.
His sudden words instantaneously overruled what ever she wanted to say, as she shut her gaping mouth in shock.
"I remember on the helicarrier. I was gonna murder him, beat him to death right then and there. But he said something that made me realize who I was. HE did, not you. I don't remember everything, but I remember him." he raved, expelling his rage with each spiteful word.
"Going to you was a mistake, I see that now. But it was either you or nothing. I couldn't go to him. I didn't deserve it." he murmured viciously, averting his intense scowl to the floor.
"Bucharest was the next best option. It's given me time to think. And now, you've made things worse." he finished with finality, continuing to glare at his apartment floor with intense resentment.
Numbness clouded her emotions as Bethany stared wide eyed at Bucky, completely shocked with his unprecedented confession. His harsh words sent her over the edge as she let her built up rage consume her wavering judgement-
"You think you're the only one that's suffered? I used to love you. I thought you were dead so I fucking buried myself for 70 years. I barely survived the pain of losing you, but then you come back from out of no where to literally try and kill me?"she screamed, releasing her denial with every inch of her being.
Do you understand how fucked up that is? I wanted you to kill me in that Hydra cell. You should've. Because the shit you're giving me right now is nothing compared to what I've suffered all because of you." she pressed on, inching closer to his enraged face with each anger-filled word.
"Go ahead, fucking yell at me and call me insignificant. I don't care anymore. If you wanna be alone with your fucked up thoughts, fine. At least I've given you something to remember me by." and with that she stormed out his front door, slamming it behind her with such force it collapsed on its hinges.
The streets of Bucharest were unnervingly empty for an Wednesday afternoon, but that didn't seem to bother Bethany. Nothing did, at this point in time. Blinding rage guided her to no where in particular, as he bubbling thoughts were completely overwhelmed with the fight that had just taken place between Bucky and herself. His harsh words stung her unfocused eyes, recollecting the intense moment with infuriating clarity.
This was a huge mistake. What exactly were you expecting? she thought remorsefully, holding her shivering hand to her throbbing forehead.
She wandered the isolated streets with no intention for an unmeasurable amount of time, entrapped within her own conflicting thoughts. Minutes quickly shifted to hours, as the setting sun gradually snapped her out of the enraged trance. Blinking with slow realization, she observed her unfamiliar surroundings with slight hesitation. She was unable to recognize which part of Bucharest she had wandered into, sighing inwardly with lingering frustration.
Does it matter though? a persistent voice echoed in her ear, as her damaged judgement clouded her conscience.
Go and forget.
"One glass of the strongest thing you have." she ordered to the Romanian bartender, shifting her eyes from the foreign menu to the counter uncomfortably.
He stared at her with confusement, as she suddenly began to regret her decision, unsure if he could even understand her English. After a moment of uncertainty, he complied, and poured a small portion from an unfamiliar bottle full of clear liquid into her empty glass.
"I don't think you can handle it-" he began in an heavy accent, frowning at her apprehensively.
"You'd be surprised." she interrupted hastily, desperately grabbing the beveridge.
She stared into the translucent liquor with slight hesitation, but without another thought gulped it down, groaning uncomfortably as it slithered down her unprepared throat. The taste was extremely bitter, burning her tongue with its strong resolution. She gave it a second to settle inside her rumbling stomach, and instantly turned to him once again, raising her now-empty glass expectantly.
"Another."
"If you insist..." he raised his bushy eyebrows uneasily, pouring her another uncertain drink.
She smiled giddily at his cooperation, and eagerly embraced her growing alcoholism.
"Do you know I fought in World War 2?" she asked curiously, leaning against the wooden bar counter with extreme interest towards Frank's reply.
"No I did not, Ms Summers." he sighed, as he cleaned a random empty glass for its next use.
She nodded with drunken enthusiasm, taking another exaggerated swig at her full beverage. Empty glasses were littered across the bench haphazardly, all mostly used by Bethany herself. After her second drink she had instantly felt the familiar dizzying feeling wash over her expectant body, welcoming the alcohol with open arms. After that, she had decided Frank was her new best friend.
"Yep. 1943 was the golden year."
"You seem to be in good shape for a 90 year-old woman." he stated sarcastically, shaking his weary head with a sigh.
"Frank! I already told you I'm not from this century, remember?" she gushed, slamming the glass against the bench with playful frustration.
The clear liquid splashed onto the counter, spilling from the glass and onto Bethany's white shirt. She giggled impulsively at the funny gesture, causing Frank to sigh once again at her sloppiness.
"Whoops. Sorry." she snickered, attempting to wipe the forming stain with her quivering fingers.
"As much as I appreciate your money, I think you've had enough for one night." he advised carefully, reaching for her half-empty cup.
"No! I'm having fun, you're having fun, we're all having fun!" she hollered bashfully, pumping her lose arms into the air with excitement.
She drowsily turned around on her bar stool, immaturely expecting the rest of the pub to shout encouragingly with her words. But to her drunken surprise, it was empty, with only Frank and herself presiding inside.
"Where is everyone? There should be music and lights and-"
"It's Wednesday, Ms Summers." Frank retorted from behind her.
She pouted disappointingly, pivoting on the stool to face him once again. The slight motion suddenly sent uncomfortable bile directly to her famished throat, causing her to gulp unsettlingly with the disgusting sensation.
"That's stupid. Well, I'm gonna go to the ladies room. I'll be back!" she decided determinedly, staggering off of the wooden stool.
She stumbled towards the corner of the pub, eager to expel the incoming vomit threatening to spill all over the burgundy carpet. She quickly pushed the revolving door open, and quickly trampled to one of the empty cubicles. Immediately performing the vile deed, she sighed against the cold porcelain toilet, overcome with a blinding migraine.
"Bethany." an annoyingly familiar voice grunted from behind her.
Slowly turning her throbbing head around, she groaned with distaste as Bucky frowned at her, uncertainty plain in his snowy eyes.
"Oh for fuck sake. You're a creep, hanging out in women's room. Did Frank see you? I hope he did." she mumbled disapprovingly, as her concentration swirled around her muddled thoughts.
"I'm taking you home." he continued, ignoring her with plain annoyance.
"Is that what you say to all the ladies? Lighten up, buddy." she smirked, waving an lazy hand towards his command.
Before she could react, he wrapped his stone arms around her tightened waist, hoisting her brashly to her wavering feet. The sudden motion sent her groggy head skyward as she tried to grasp at what exactly was going on. Unable to concentrate, her consciousness instantly disappeared, as Bucky carried her intoxicated body into the unknown.