Stucky's daughter

23

As the clock struck midnight, I awoke abruptly, my mind clouded with confusion. In a rush, I hastily slipped into a delicate dress, hoping it would bring some clarity to the whirlwind of emotions within me.

Lukas, my trusted companion, arrived to pick me up, and with a heavy heart, I approached him hesitantly. "I don't know if this is right," I murmured softly, uncertain of the path I was about to tread. However, he paid no heed to my doubts, simply seizing my hand and leading me towards his roaring motorcycle.

Within a mere ten minutes, we arrived at our destination. The surroundings were cloaked in darkness, matching the shadows that loomed within my soul. Seeking solace, I attempted to drown my sorrows in a swirl of smoke and the numbing embrace of alcohol.

By 2 am, I found myself yearning for the safety of home, and I implored Lukas to accompany me. Wordlessly, he nodded in agreement, steering me towards the sanctuary I so desperately needed. However, as I made my way through the labyrinthine corridors, my heart sank to my stomach when I stumbled upon my father's room.

Reality crashed down upon me like a merciless wave. I was still unwell, and the worry etched upon Bucky's face was palpable. His grip tightened around my arm as he demanded answers, his voice laced with fury. "WHERE THE FUCK WERE YOU?! WE WERE WORRIED SICK!" I stood there, paralyzed, attempting to keep my heavy eyelids open, but my father's stern actions brought me back to the present. He subjected me to an icy shower, a shock that jolted through my trembling body.

After the ordeal, Bucky, perhaps seeking some semblance of clarity, posed a simple question. "Could you walk a straight line for me?" I nodded, feigning strength, but my legs betrayed me, buckling beneath the weight of my fractured existence. Steve, sensing my agony, caught me just in time, his arms a sturdy anchor against the storm raging within me. The pain in my stomach lingered, a reminder of the darkness I had willingly embraced.

In a desperate attempt to discern the truth, Bucky grasped my face, searching my eyes for any trace of illicit substances. But there were none to be found. Steve rushed to procure an alcohol-drug test, and I complied, the result revealing my drunken state but absolving me of any involvement with drugs. Exhausted and overwhelmed, Steve gently carried me, and as the world faded away, I desperately clung to him, reluctant to let go.

The morning sunlight crept through the curtains, stirring me from a fitful sleep. Bucky, sensing my distress, tried to prop me up, his embrace a shelter from the torment of my nightmares. Resting my head against his chest, I listened to the steady rhythm of his heart, a lullaby that calmed my racing breaths.

Opening my bleary eyes, I glanced at Steve, a pillar of strength in my fragile world. I inhaled deeply, attempting to steady myself, yet the room felt suffocating. Instinctively, I turned to Bucky, clinging to him once more as sleep beckoned me back into its embrace.

Moments later, I jolted awake as someone shook me. Steve stood before me, his eyes filled with concern. In my drowsiness, I mustered a tired inquiry, "Where's Dad?" His chuckle resonated through the room, his warmth a soothing balm. "You're lying on top of him," he revealed gently.

I gazed at Steve, my eyes welling with tears, an unspoken plea for understanding. He released me from his grip and uttered the words that hung heavy in the air, "We need to talk." Confusion clouded my mind momentarily, until the memories flooded back with painful clarity.

Descending the stairs, I joined my father and Bucky, my anxiety palpable. Bucky's voice was stern as he demanded an explanation, his disappointment cutting through the air. My throat tightened, and I nervously averted my gaze, concocting feeble excuses. "I... I don't really know," I stammered, weaving a web of deceit that threatened to unravel.

But truth and anger mingled in Steve's eyes, a dangerous combination that demanded honesty. "Come on, Y/n, tell us," he implored, his voice tinged with frustration. As the weight of their expectations bore down upon me, I succumbed to the pressure. My eyes met the ground, my voice barely a whisper, as I uttered the incomplete truth.

Bucky's frustration reached a boiling point, and in a fit of anger, he bellowed, his words reverberating through the room. "I SWEAR TO GOD, IF YOU'RE NOT GOING TO LOOK AT US RIGHT NOW, YOU WON'T GET YOUR PHONE FOR 1 MONTH!" Panic seized me, tears welled in my eyes, yet I fought to maintain composure, repeating a mantra within my mind, "Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry."

Steve, ever compassionate, recognized my struggle. He approached, enfolding me in a tender embrace, a lifeline in the tempest of emotions. I clung to him, burying my face in his chest, releasing a torrent of sobs that washed away the façade of strength I had worn.

After what seemed like an eternity, they relented, their anger softened by empathy. They guided me towards the car, their hands reassuringly entwined with mine. We arrived at a grand building, a beacon of hope amidst the darkness. Confusion clouded my mind until a woman approached, her voice gentle yet firm. "Hi, you must be Y/n Barnes Rogers, right?" Nodding in awe, I realized I stood within a dance class, a sanctuary where my sorrows could find respite.

As I danced, the ache in my soul dissipated, replaced by a glimmer of joy. The teacher's words bestowed upon me the gift of belonging, the opportunity to express my heart through movement. Filled with gratitude, I sprinted towards my father's, enveloping them in an embrace that conveyed the depth of my appreciation. I questioned their knowledge, and with a tinge of remorse, they confessed to having looked through my phone. Yet, the warmth of their love eclipsed any regret.

We returned home to a gathering of cherished friends, and Wanda, ever nurturing, prepared a feast for our souls. Nourished both in body and spirit, we immersed ourselves in shared laughter, games that brought solace, and conversation that wove a tapestry of connection. Eventually, exhaustion claimed me, and I found myself cradled in the embrace of slumber, laughter echoing in my dreams