Gallium // Bucky Barnes // 18+

77. Who?

Fuckin' on the countertops, elevated her
She can ride me blind, I give anything she want
I never let her know, so she come back for more
Are you done yet? 'Cause I'm right here
Are you waitin' for the right time to call me back?

Cigarettes and fuckin' on the windowsill
In my bed, yeah,
tell me when you're gettin' here
Only thing I wanna kno-o-ow, oh
Is how far away you are?

~Windowsill.
(By: Zayn, Devlin)

Krystal's pov:

"Mrs. Barnes, some of these questions could be very gruesome and sensitive, so if at any moment you feel like it's going out of hand, please, let me know." The female officer said to me as we sat in the conference room of our firm building.

Three officers and advocates sat on the other side of the table in front of me while Bucky sat beside me while a stenographer sat at the end of the table, adjacent to me.

Because of Bucky's deep rooted connections, it was easy to convince the officers to get my testimony at a place where I was comfortable and it did calm my nerves to a certain extent but still... Re-living my worst of nightmares was not a good day.

"Mrs. Barnes, could you give me a detailed map of your relationship with Brock Rumlow and the whole Rumlow family?" One of the officers asked with a stable deep voice. A pen ready in his palm over an open file, to write any key points I might provide.

Gulping down, I nodded my head but before I could say anything, Bucky slipped his palm into mine, holding it firmly. I gave him a glance as he sent me a assuring soft grin with a soft nod of the head, somehow filling me with confidence.

Taking a deep breath, "Brock Rumlow's father, Mark Rumlow was my father, Noah Ivy's, best friend. Both, my father and Mark went to the same college and have been friends ever since. Brock and I practically grew up together, as we used to spend a lot of time together, that created a bond or trust." I said, holding Bucky's hand tightly. "But as we grew up, we kind of started to drift apart as Brock started working with his father and I never wanted to join my father's business, so I joined Arbundale Art, to study interior designing..."

I narrated my life's misery like a story to them. Getting emotional every now then but still holding my composure, not letting fall through the professionalism, as they asked me questions. Some involved the extent of the violence Brock rained on me or what I did after getting beat up... Gruesome, remember.

After what felt like an hour, the room went silent. I went silent. The clicking of the stenographer went silent. And this silence was killing me as my brain had this issue of getting too loud once there was silence around me.

"Please, Don't hold back any more questions, you might have." I asked everyone on the table trying to bury the demons in my brain.

"Mrs. Barnes-" one of the advocates said, "Was there anyone who could testify to all this? An eye witness?" She added, looking curiously at me.

"I can't give you their names as of yet-" I said thinking of a few people, "But I'll provide you with the credible witnesses in a little while." I pressed my lips and she sent me a nod.

"One more thing-" other advocate said, "Is there anyone from the Rumlow family who could testify?"

I let out a humourless chuckle listening to his question.

"From the Rumlow family?" I raised my brows in amusement, "They hate me with every cell in their bodies. They would never help me even if they're getting anything in return, let alone out of the goodness of their hearts." I added with a sting in my heart.