Leave Me Broken [Winter Soldier] II

Imperfection [Chapter 11]

"We are all wonderful, beautiful wrecks. That's what connects us - that we're all broken, all beautifully imperfect."

Emilio Estevez

               "Take a seat." Sam pointed at the large, black leather chairs in the back of the café. There were people busy within, chatting or serving coffee. Drinks were being sipped and spilled, but no one seemed to recognize Sam or Ophelia, and there was no TV playing inside of the café to display their wanted, criminal faces. All in all, Berlin was one of the best places to be among all this chaos, because those traditionally well known faces were easier to hide. Ophelia herself was not well known, but the terror still in her eyes made a few people ask if she were alright. She would simply nod and say nothing, scared of the sound of her own voice now that it was hoarse.

              "Can I get you anything?" Sam asked, trying to get anything out of Ophelia.

               She glanced up with large green eyes and took a deep breath. The essence of a sob was heavy in her chest, but she fought it and won. "Coffee, lots of sugar."

              "You got it, Kid." Sam left Ophelia there, and she brought her hands over her ears once again. All the noise around her, it made her realize how small she was. Inside her head it was hard to slow things down, but she knew she had to categorize everything, compartmentalize. The good, the bad, the ugly. 

             Her mind drifted to what Bucky had said to her the night he had let her read his journal entry about her, and how he said he wouldn't have traded any of his memories if it meant losing the ones he had with her. He was a man who had suffered far beyond anyone else she knew, and if he lost her because of this, he would break. Ophelia bit down hard on her tongue to stop herself from tearing up in public; she wasn't going to leave Bucky, because he wasn't himself, but would she be able to face him?

           Of course she would.

          The brunette pulled her knees to her chest and leaned against the thick arm of the chair, her eyes staring through the dirty window. It looked as though it hadn't been cleaned all winter, and now that the sun was beaming through, it showed every imperfection. She imagined if a light were to shine through her, she too would be filled with imperfections for the world to see. The damage inside of her from so many years of HYDRA treating her like she wasn't worth the air she breathed, the food she ate. 

             But it didn't matter that she had these imperfections, not to Bucky. To the rest of the world, she was overlooked, ignored, or as of late, seen as a criminal. But to Bucky, she was so much more than all of that. She was a combination of her flaws and imperfections, her smiles and sense of humour, her ability to always see good despite all obstacles. And so she had to see good again; Ophelia turned her sight away from the window and spotted Sam with two to-go cups in his hand and a bag dangling from his wrist.

              "Lots of sugar." He placed her cup down and then handed her the bag. "I got this for you, too."

               Ophelia opened the bag with question, and when she pulled out the light blue infinity scarf, she smiled wryly. Though it was necessary to stop people from turning their head at her neck wounds, it brought back the pain and made her chest heave with a choked-back sob. She cleared her throat, despite how much it hurt, and wrapped the scarf around her neck twice. Still loose enough that it wouldn't bother her, but covered all of her bruises and redness. Her eyes met Sam's and she nodded. "Thank you."

           "Do you want to talk about it?" he asked in a comforting way. "I haven't heard from Steve yet, and I don't want you to shut down on us. Not now."