Part 3

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           Keen blue eyes searched the hall, darting toward every doorway. Once satisfied, Bucky exited his apartment, his basket full of clothing held close to him, Alpine walking beside him. He snuck off to the laundry room, hoping Dot wouldn't pop out and start up a conversation with him. Worst case scenario, he could toss Alpine onto her face act like it was an accident. Or maybe that was best case scenario. He shook his head and kept walking. His red and blue clothes were drowned by his black and gray clothing, helping him blend into the shadows easier. Finally making it to the laundry room, he let out a soft breath of relief. The only other person in there was Mrs. Kalright, and she was one of the few people Bucky didn't mind talking with.

He greeted her and walked over to the washing machine. Alpine curled on top of the dryer that has Mrs. Kalright's clothes in it, his soft body reveling in the warmth it brought. Bucky messed with the buttons on the washer for a while, wondering why Westside Apartments could buy the fanciest washers and dryers on the face of the earth, but couldn't fix the railing on the stairs. Why did the darned washer need so many buttons anyway? He wanted clean clothes without trying to program it. He saw Mrs. Kalright struggling to carry all her items.

"Do you need any help?" Bucky asked softly.

"You're such a dear. I would deeply appreciate it." She said as Bucky took the laundry soap from her hands.

Bucky walked with her back to her apartment. He listened to her sweet old voice as she talked about how her husband hid her favorite mug again, and she hates it, but he thinks it's funny. Bucky smiles as she talks about her relationship with her husband. Maybe if he hadn't been drafted, he would have had a life full of love and happiness.

"That Dot woman get you to go out with her yet?" Mrs. Kalright asked with a smile.

Bucky sucked in a breath and shook his head. "No ma'am. I, uh, don't think she's my type."

She laughed. "I don't think so either."

They eventually got to her apartment and Bucky helped put her stuff away.

"Thank you for your help, James. Therapy today?"

Bucky sighed as he ran his hand through his hair. "Unfortunately, but I guess it's part of life."

"Well, do take care, James."

"Thank you. I will." Bucky replied before he left.

~~~~~

"We're going down! Everyone in the cockpit disappeared! Does anyone know how to fly a plane?!" A flight attendant nearly screamed.

People were screaming in terror as they watched loved ones and friends dust away in front of their eyes. You were breathing fast, what in the world was happening?! The plane was descending fast, and you quickly unbuckled yourself before going up to the frightened attendant.

"I have experience." You said before siting in the pilot's seat.

You struggled to get the plane back on course, a layer of sweat was starting to cover your skin. You pulled up with fearful force. You tried to connect to a nearby station but got only static. You cursed as another plane was headed toward you guys. Maneuvering the best you could, you prayed for the best. The opposite plane harshly crashed into the left wing of the plane, and a horrid groan was heard throughout the sky. A forest was coming closer and closer into view as the plane toppled toward the earth. You tried to steady it the best you could, but it looked like the end.

"Brace yourselves!!!" You screamed into the earpiece as the plane crashed into the thick brush of the forest.

You woke up in a cold sweat, your breaths uneven. You threw the covers off of you and set your feet on the cold floor. That was five years ago, when the world was thrown into chaos by Thanos. Only five people other than you survived on the plane that day. You took a deep breath as you remembered. Deciding a warm shower would help ease some of the tension in your body, you ambled toward the bathroom. Therapy was going to be horrible today.

~~~~~

Bucky looked at the stairs like he was looking at Mt. Everest. Therapy was on the sixth floor, and here he was on the first. Taking a deep breath, he started his long journey up the carpeted stairs. He thought about using the railing but saw a few pieces of gum stuck to it and thought better of it. Weren't people supposed to clean those things? Humming an old 40s tune, he picked up his pace a little. He was looking at some of the pictures that decorated the wall before he stepped wrong and fell. Cursing, he stood up.

"I hate stairs. I hate life. And I especially hate that worker at Starbucks that gets my order wrong on purpose." Bucky grumbled as he kept trekking his way up.

About halfway there he noticed someone sitting on one of the steps. As he got closer, he recognized the person.

"It's you." He spoke gruffly.

Your head jerked up quickly, then you relaxed when you noticed who it was. "Yeah. I'm, uh, Y/n, by the way."

"Bucky." He said stretching out his hand.

You shook it with a weak smile.

Bucky stood there awkwardly for a few moments before speaking. "So...therapy, huh?"

He winced as he registered the words he had just said. Had it really been this long since he has had a normal conversation with a stranger?

"Not that therapy is bad." Bucky said quickly. "But, uh, what's wrong with you? No, sorry. I haven't had a decent conversation with people in a while. Um..."

You smiled as he rambled, and you found it cute. He was trying so hard not to seem rude and though you usually didn't talk to people, you found an odd comfort with him.

"It's okay." You replied. "I have court mandated therapy, because of some, um, issues. What about you."

Bucky rubbed the back of his neck and breathed out. "Pretty much the same as you. Do you, uh, want to walk the rest of the way with me? You don't have to of course, I just thought—"

You laughed. "Sure."

He let out a sigh of relief. You stood up and walked beside Bucky up the stairs. You walked in silence, but it was a silence you could be calm with. It was a peace you hadn't felt in a long time. And you may have found yourself a therapy buddy.

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