Disruption. | Bucky Barnes

Chapter 38.

I feel lonely as days go by while I sit isolated by myself, the Russian woman has had others bring me food I can actually eat, but I rarely feel like I can stomach it.

Pietro, my mother or even Frankenstein don't bother me, but I know they're probably watching, the red flashing light in the ceiling camera persistent in the way it is so small and yet it keeps me up at night.

Being alone in this room makes me feel alone in my head, I feel the memory of Bucky's voice slipping away, it being so long since I heard it, knowing they've had me under anesthesia, I don't know how long I've been here.

Yet every other moment I have with Bucky plays in my head, my favourite ever present.

I'm sat on my bed with Bucky beside me, reading whatever book he'd been suggested that week and suddenly he puts it down, laying his head on my chest and wrapping his limps around me, I stroke his hair and he looks up at me softly, whispering quietly as he tells me 'I love you' before nuzzling his head into my neck and falling to sleep.

He slept soundly for hours, not waking once from a nightmare or anything of the sort, as I watched endless television, barely paying attention to the screen as my focus was solely on Bucky.

Bucky, I can't help but wonder where he is now, my heart aches for him.

More restless nights overwhelm me to exhaustion, barely eating, my body giving up on me.

I'm close to giving up on myself, but Bucky's face is always front and center in my head, and so I force myself to eat what I can, drink a few sips of water, my clothes starting to hang from me as my body fails to support itself, I have to convince myself to continue, for Bucky, my dad, Morgan.

Tears fall from me as I think of my little sister, a desperation in me craves to hold her while she sleeps which she occasionally has allowed me to do, watching her eat her cereal ever so slowly, letting her bring me into the imaginative world she creates for herself while she plays and how she includes me in every part of it.

I cry harder for my father, for every concerned night I know he's sat struggling with my behaviour, how best to handle the daughter he loves and is loathed by.

When I'm reminded of my mother's words, that Bucky was faking it all, I cry with anger, because I know she is lying, despite her convincing tone, his actions, his feelings towards me, that man loves me, I know it, and so does she.

When I think of my mum, my eyes dry, my throat tightens, and I feel rage burn through me. How could she do all of this to me? Faking her suicide, allowing me to see that image in my head every day since the day I lost her, my grieving mind amplifying it by the thousands.

What did she think would happen? That I would stay in England? While she was doing what?

As though a light turns on in my brain, I look to the camera above me, what is it that she has done all of this for? How evil is she?

Evil enough to allow her daughter to grieve her.

I swallow hard, clearing the lump in my throat. I love her, she is my mum, she was my everything, my best friend, my greatest supporter, my safety, and yet, that must of meant nothing to her, why else would she do this? Why does she continue to allow me, her daughter to suffer?

Climbing out of bed I sit in the corner under the camera, the one and only blind spot. This is where I allow sobs to wreck me, as I realise everything I had in my mother, I found in Bucky, and now he too seems lost to me.

***

Frankenstein has me on some sort of supplement drip, Pietro sits beside me as I drift in and out of consciousness, he mutters things to me inaudibly, his eyes raking over me, his lips twitch at the corners when I reciprocate the gentle squeezes he has been doing on my weakened hand.