Baby Barton

Chapter 80 Chloe Barton

Three days of hell finally over the hard work however, starts here.

You submerge yourself under water the scalding liquid cauterizing your sins and stripping your body of the dirt. The water is muggy and flakes of your detox float around beside you making your stomach churn. You reach down pulling the plug and watch it all swirl down the drain disappearing into the abyss.

A weak knock at the door comes just as you begin fill the tub back up with fresh, clean water, "Chloe..." Bucky whispers softly hovering outside the door.

"mhmm?" you whisper back, "I'm okay, I'm just not ready to come out yet."

The hot water soothes your aching body, softens the pain where your ribs were racked by the violent vomiting.

The door opens a jar, Bucky slides in a bottle of foaming bubble bath, "I thought this might help." His voice bends round the crack.

You haven't seen one another, not since he held you as you writhed around in anguish. The bath fills painfully slow, "could you pass it to me, I don't want to get the floor wet."

He walks in with his eyes tightly shut handing you the bottle, you empty the contents into the bath the lavender smell filling the room as the steam carries it around.

"You can stay y'know." It would be nice to have some company after the trauma of yesterday, you feel emotionally stunted and you could do with some sort of release from the vice that it holds you under. You've never been the silent type.

Bucky nods and sits on the floor of the bathroom, you don't talk. You just sit in comfortable silence together, you can tell that Bucky is relieved that the screaming is over and so are you. The demon that had taken over your body expelled, now the real work starts. Staying clean and learning to be alone, again.

The image of Steve lying injured by the river flashes across your mind, it causes an involuntary moan to escape from your mouth as a stabbing pain shoots across you chest.

Bucky's eyes flash up to you his worried stare burning into your naked flesh. You hide your tears with water from the bath, he doesn't need to know that you are crying.

What now Chloe?

Your stomach growls mortifyingly loud the noise amplified in the acoustics of this heavily tiled bathroom.
Bucky grins gently at you, "do you want to go out and get some food?" he asks nervously.

"I could eat," you sigh reaching for a towel, trying to recall the last time you had a bite. Bucky dips his head exiting the bathroom allowing you some privacy. You step out of the bath groaning as your muscles ache, you catch a glimpse of your body in the mirror that hangs on the back of the door. You study the bruises that lace your legs, your stomach painfully flat as your hip bones threaten to pierce through the skin. You take a deep breath closing you eyes as you turn your arms to face the mirror, to afraid to look. You prize them open and study the street of track marks that line your veins, you want to see what the world will see. This is you. All your hard work undone. Having to begin your young life again. You've practically lived three half lives by now.

"Are you okay?" Bucky hands you a pair of running tights and a sweatshirt, you offer him a reassuring smile and head into the bedroom to change. Clean underwear and a sports bra lie on the bed, he really has thought about everything.

You are not okay, but you are trying to be.

***

It feels almost criminal being out in the open like this, you glance down at Bucky's arm which is concealed with leather gloves, his eyes flit everywhere constantly searching the streets for potential threats. Always worried that your cover will be made. A mass murderer and a junkie, what a pair you make.

"Do you even know where the fuck we are going?" you nudge him playfully.

"I know Bucharest very well actually." His irritated tone matching his scornful, serious face.

"In here." He leads you into a small café, he grabs you two seats at the service counter. He reaches for a newspaper the writing in English. Its an American paper.

Oh shit.

He reads it meticulously, studying every word. You scrutinise every little movement his face makes, your stomach turning with fear.

"anything?" you ask sheepishly regretting it the instant the question left your lips. You don't want to know the answer. Or do you? Fuck.

"Nothing." Relief clouds over his face, and he slowly relaxes his shoulders.

But you didn't feel relief, you weren't worried about yourself. You wanted to know if there was any word on Steve, if somehow Captain Americas recovery had been mentioned in this American tabloid. You just needed to know that he was okay.

"nothing at all about...St...Steve?" you fight back tears as your throat swells over his name. The lack of knowing what state he is in making you feel uneasy. Guilty and ashamed. You left him behind, and now this is your punishment.

Bucky notices the tears glistening in your eyes he slides the paper over to you so you can see for yourself, "I'm sorry, nothing." He dips his head sympathetically.

You know he is riddled with as much guilt as you. Probably more.

Letting a shuddered breath ripple through your lips you take a bite of your lunch, you didn't realise quite how hungry you were until the taste of the ramen touched your lips. Then you became ravenous. A feral hunger taking over as you slurp the noodles aggressively. The waitress comes over to take away Bucky's empty bowl, she glances at you as you breathe through the food sweats.

"Can I get you and your sister anything else?" she looks down at him through fluttering eyelashes.

'sister'? fuck me. That was like taking a bullet.

She leans in slowly taking away his bowl, lingering a little. Bucky is oblivious as he thanks her with a nod of the head, declining her offer with a quick shake of his hand.

"She's hitting on you Bucky." You laugh playfully, giving him a little nudge. Relishing in the unknown distraction. It's a strange feeling you have with Bucky, you know you should hate him, and you kind of do. But you also know that none of what happened to you both was his fault. This Bucky, this shy and vulnerable Bucky intrigues you. Not in the way that Loki did...its hard to explain. You want to help him. He needs someone like you to bring him out of his shell.

Bucky shakes his head, screwing his eyes under furrowed brows hoping that you'll drop it.

"You wanna hit that Buck?" you smirk at him, your cheeks burning.

His eyes widen, "can you stop?!" he grits through his teeth whilst flexing his fist.

The waitress steps closer to you grabbing your empty glass, "hey! He has a metal arm you know, he's very talented with his finge-" Bucky kicks your shin under the counter, "Ouch!" you snort trying your best to plug up a spray of laughter.

"Is that so?" the waitress laughs along side you her eyes falling on Bucky's hands. He shuffles nervously, hiding them underneath the counter.

He leans over to her reading her name tag, "Leah...I apologise for her, she has many issues." He glares in your direction.

Well look at Bucky flirting with the waitress! It makes your heart swell. He's right you do have several issues.

"I think she's hilarious!" Leahs mouth twists into a flirtatious coy smile.

Getting in with the 'sister', wise.

Bucky returns her smile as he shakes his head, "please don't encourage her, you'll only make her worse." He pleads jokingly.

He allows a small part of the old Bucky from the 40's to shine through, but just a little bit. Leah is right though, you are hilarious. Bucky just needed to loosen up.

You needed the emotional diversion, because you are one bad day from self destruct.