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Breathe.

Y/n stood in the church bathroom, her hands resting on either side of the sink as she stared at herself in the mirror. She was desperately searching for some sort of happiness in her eyes, anything to keep her bubbly character going. Anything to have one nice night with Bucky. But there didn't even seem to be a small glint.

Y/n could barely recognise herself in the mirror. Destroyed by exhaustion, grief, and stress. Mascara had run down her cheeks, staining her face and swirling with the other light makeup she'd applied that day. Her hair was a mess from Wanda pulling all the bobby pins out, and her dress was crinkled and creased beyond help. It wasn't a pleasant sight, and it was a sight that y/n had desperately been trying to avoid. But she knew that it was time to go, and that was made obvious by the warm red liquid that started to spill out of her nose.

Nosebleed.

Nosebleeds were never a good sign for y/n. It meant that she was overexerting her powers. She had been mimicking Wanda's powers for too long, and it was draining the life out of her. Even if she ignored Wanda's wishes and defeated the military, she'd slip out of control sooner or later, and everybody knew how dangerous that was.

The last time y/n slipped out of control was... well, everyone remembers it pretty well, the 'Lagos Incident'.

So many innocent people died that day, all because of her. She lost control and every single power of hers came to the surface. A lethal whirlwind of fire, energy, ice, mind control, everything.

Y/n was unwillingly sent to the Raft by Bruce and Tony. She was isolated in an empty white room for months on end, used as a lab rat for Bruce's experiments. The only good thing that came out of it was the fact that her code words didn't affect her anymore, but other than that, it felt like she was back with Hydra. The only things that had been missing were the shock collars, mind wiping machines, and the cryofreeze chambers.

It was pure hell.

She wasn't even able to see Bucky. The only form of contact she got from him was through a letter that had been smuggled in with her food one night. God, that letter broke her. He stayed in the character of Fred for the main part of the letter, wrote a personal note on the back, and also attached a photo of himself in Romania. Right beside him there was a teddy bear with a wig on, which was obviously meant to resemble y/n. Dork.

Bucky had always been a sort of lighthouse for her. He was the person to listen out for if she ever felt stressed during missions, he was the person that would listen whilst she rambled on and on about whatever she was excited about that day, but he was also the arms that would hold her whenever she was having an off day. Bucky was her guiding light, and now she had to let go of it forever.

She wasn't ready.

Y/n quickly blinked herself back into reality when the familiar feeling of shutting down started to arise, splashing her face with water as much as she could as she tried to ground herself. She was desperate to wash the pain away for a few more hours. Desperate to have a nice goodbye where she didn't have to cry in front of her husband the entire time.

Y/n sniffled as she reached out for some paper towels to pat her face dry, still trying to muster up any energy she had left so that she could stop the nosebleed. She lifted one hand up into the air, flicking her wrist as she allowed her magic to wash over her, clearing any imperfection and allowing her image to reset back into the Darlene that left the house that morning.

Her breathing was still shaky and trembling as she threw the paper towels into the trash, finally looking up at herself in the mirror. She forced a bright smile onto her face, causing every single muscle to burn and ache with exhaustion. Everything had to be perfect for a few more hours. Everything had to be 'normal'.

*****

Y/n kept that forced smile on her face as she finally opened the door and made her way out to the main part of the church, her entire demeanour almost dropping as she caught sight of her husband sat down on one of the pews.

The exact pew that she sat at during Bucky's funeral. God, she felt sick.

Bucky's face lit up at the sight of his wife, quickly standing up as he picked up the bouquet of flowers that had been laying beside him. "Hi, Doll." He hummed in a loving tone, desperate to ignore the obviously wobbling smile as he made his way toward her, pulling y/n into a comforting hug. "I hope these flowers aren't too much, I just-" He paused, realising that he was rambling. "I just knew I had to apologise."

He pressed a few kisses to the top of y/n's head, holding her as close as he possibly could as he continued to lie through his teeth. God, he hated lying, but he was determined to stay oblivious. Determined to give y/n the goodbye she deserved. "I was in a weird spot, y'know? Life's been stressful lately. From Mr Harts visit, to you being sick, and all the orders I have to get through at work... I wasn't thinking properly."

Y/n closed her eyes, resting her head against Bucky's chest for a few moments as she listened to him continue to ramble on and on. She wasn't expecting him to apologise, especially because the argument had been completely her fault, but, just like Wanda said, it was typical of the pair. They could be screaming at each other one moment, and laughing the next. It was just how they were.

Y/n pulled away from Bucky's hold, reaching her hands up to cup his face and shut him up. Her warm smile never wavered, simply savouring every single one of Bucky's features. "Hey, it's okay." She whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. "I'm sorry too." She nodded, rubbing her thumbs over her husband's cheeks. "How about we squash it and have a relaxing night in, hm? Just the two of us?" Y/n offered with a hopeful look in her eyes, moving away so that they weren't inches away from one another anyway.

Bucky nodded at the nice offer, a fond smile playing at his lips as y/n took the bouquet out of his hands. "That sounds great, Doll." He hummed, beginning to follow his wife out of the church. He snaked an arm around her waist, desperately trying to block out the fact that this was going to be the last time they'd walk home together. The last time he'd feel the setting sun on his face. "What've you got in mind?"

"Well, I was thinking we could watch a movie first, and then we'll see where the night takes us."


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