No Place in the World

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A crack of thunder shook Bucky from his nightmare, causing him to gasp for breath as he shot up in bed. The chance of his heart rate slowing anytime soon was unlikely, for he was unable to rid his mind of the images flashing in his brain, and he could barely compose himself enough to reach his metal arm across the bed to the nightstand. Taking the glass of water in his hand, he downed it quickly, desperately trying to cool his body down. His hair was plastered to his forehead with sweat, beads of sweat also covering his body from head to toe. He hadn't intended on falling asleep; without Marlena there, he was more prone to falling victim to his nightmares. Going without sleep for yet another night, however, was taking a toll on both his mind and body, both of which were beginning to play tricks on him.

He held the glass firmly in his metal hand, using his other to rummage through the sheets, now damp from his sweat and tangled from his restlessness, to locate his cell phone. Upon finding it in the mess of fabric, he pressed the home button and watched the screen light up. Seeing the photo of Marlena appear on the screen caused his chest to ache, along with the rest of his body. After waking from his nightmare, he could still feel the pain that had been inflicted on him in his sleep, and the only thing—the only person—who could free him of that pain was now a whole ocean away.

Her eyes were closed, her lips slightly parted. Her hair was splayed out around her, Bucky's flesh hand was lost in the silky locks. He had taken the photo several months ago, while she slept in his lap. She hated the picture, but he loved it. Something about her serenity, her sleeping figure, had brought him peace—until now. Looking down at the picture displayed on the screen no longer brought him that feeling of tranquility; it instead caused fear to bubble up inside of him until he felt he was about to burst.

He unlocked it quickly, his fingers moving at the speed of light to dial her number, which he had etched into his brain. Holding the phone to his ear, he waited for the sweet sound of her voice to lull him back to reality—to remind him that he could wait it out until she was back in his arms again. He needed her to answer, though he wasn't sure of the time in Lagos. He wasn't sure of anything right now.

"Hi—"

"Mar, baby, listen. I—"

"You've reached Marlena Claire. Sorry I couldn't take your call, I'm either busy or ignoring you. Leave a message and I'll consider getting in touch with you as soon as I can. Thanks!"

"Fuck," he muttered, dropping the phone from his ear without even bothering to hang up.

Without thinking, he threw the empty glass clear across the room and listened to it shatter against the wall opposite of the bed. His head hung low as another crack of thunder rumbled the house. His senses felt heightened; he felt as if the very walls around him were shaking, vulnerable to collapse at any given moment. The sound of the rain pounding on the roof and the ground outside seemed louder than ever, and he held his hands to his ears to block out the noise. However, blocking out the sounds of reality only forced him farther into the depths of his mind, where he heard them—where he heard the voices.

The voice called out to him, signaling the first word of the phrase that would will Bucky to do anything he was ordered to, including murder.

"Тоска (Longing)."

Bucky was unwinding—and rapidly. He squeezed his eyes shut as visions of his nightmare began to replay in his mind.

"ржавый (Rusted)."

He could see her face, her face stained with tears—tears that he had caused.

"семнадцать (Seventeen)."

Relapse ★ Bucky BarnesWhere stories live. Discover now