Haven [Marvel | Bucky Barnes]

Chapter 12

"He was looking for me, wasn't he."

He was waiting by the window just as she suspected. Iris had barely closed the door before he spoke, his voice nearly a snarl. But it was also miserable. Iris tried to ignore it, pushing past the crushing sensation the tone sent through her. She looked down to the crumpled card still in her hands. It took her a moment to flatten it, though the creases remained, harsh on the once crisp, thick paper. The distance between the door and the window felt like a mile. But Iris walked it anyway, silently setting the card next to the small black journal on the sill beside James.

"Yes, Bucky. He was looking for you." His head snapped up to her, a desolate expression flashing across his face. Her admitting she knew that name—his name—was all the confirmation he needed and she knew it. She tried to smile, but her lips didn't quite seem able to obey her, not knowing as she did what was going to come next. His jaw clenched as he turned abruptly back to the window, his eyes only half seeing the street outside. Then with an angry sound he pushed away from the wall, brushing almost angrily past her.

She just watched him as he took a handful of steps into the apartment before stopping, the tension in his shoulders and back betraying how on edge he was. A shuddering breath broke the silence and it surprised Iris to realize it had come from her. She took first one step, then another until she stood behind him again. She reached out, but couldn't quite bring herself to touch him. Her fingers closed into a fist of her own, retreating to clutch at her aunt's sunflower. Her stomach was beginning to ache with her anxiety.

"You're going to leave, aren't you." Her words were quiet but there was no hiding the bitter sadness in them. If anything he tensed further, his head dropping for a moment before he turned back to her. Her eyes were beginning to burn, but Iris was determined not to cry, clenching her own teeth together to keep her chin from trembling at the impulse. "Please stay," she bit out, the two words a plea and a demand all at once. His face crumpled and regret flickered in his eyes before a restless, anxious energy seemed to rise up in him, washing it away. He stepped away from her, skirting around her again to return to the window. The expression baffled Iris at first, but as his mouth opened to speak only to snap shut when he began shaking his head, she somehow managed to put a name to it.

Self-preservation.

His agitation clear on his face, James began to pace, his metal hand flexing and fisting compulsively as he thought. He didn't wear the gloves around her anymore, so the metal gleamed in the sunlight seeping into the apartment. Iris dropped onto the couch, watching him with bewildered eyes, trying not to show how freaked out she was by his reaction.

"I've been here too long," he muttered, "I've been so stupid. I know better...I knew I should have moved on weeks ago—"

"Then why didn't you?" The question was out of Iris' mouth before she could stop it. He shot her a look that was equally dejected and condescending, as though she should know why. As soon as she thought that, she did know. "Because of me," she whispered. Her eyes dropped as a feeling of guilt threatened to close her throat. She looked up again as he stilled, reaching down to flatten the card on the windowsill with his flesh and bone fingers to read it better, his face stony and cold. Iris forced back the sudden welling of self-pity, annoyed with herself for giving in so easily. She didn't want to give him up. She wanted to fight for him.

She'd fallen in love with him.

She started at the realization.

When the hell had that happened...she shook her head to clear the thought away. She couldn't think on that now, though it certainly added an edge to her pain at the idea of him leaving. So she changed the subject. Sort of.