Honesty ♧ Bucky Barnes

The Subject

Erin got home a lot earlier than she expected. After a long day's work involving avoiding Daveed, she still felt like he was slightly annoyed at her after standing him up last month, she had been slightly reluctant to go to Dr Kennedy's session. She was exhausted, and in all honesty, just wanted to get home and snuggle up on the couch with her cat. And Bucky... mostly Bucky...

When she got to his office, however, she was surprised to see that nobody was there. His entire flat was completely deserted, even his furniture had gone. She had phoned him multiple times, but the phone company had had trouble connecting her to his mobile. It was almost as if it had been disconnected.

Weird.

Anyway, she had left the flat much earlier than she usually would, and set off straight back home. she stopped off at a cafe to buy a black coffee, Bucky's favourite, as a thank you present for the slightly burnt pancakes that she had been blessed with that morning. As always, she was out of breath by the time that she had walked up all three flights of stairs. She burst through the door and noticed Bucky sitting on the couch, a small book in his hand.

She knew instantly that something was wrong.

His face had lost all of the easy-going comfort that it had had that morning. The security seemed to have gone from his eyes and was replaced by an agonisingly familiar blank stare. His shoulders were raised in a tense position, and even under the thin black T-shirt that he was wearing, she could tell that he was sat too rigidly. Her heart dropped. He didn't look like her friend.

He looked like the Winter Solider.

"Bucky?" She warily asked, taking a step inside. He looked up from the small book, his eyes dead.

"Who?"

Her eyes glanced down at the book he was holding, and her heart skipped a beat. Shit. The book was the small leather notepad that she had used to jot down her findings on how Bucky responded to the serum. This was bad. This was very bad.

"Bucky, let me explain-"

"Bucky?" he cut her off, his voice filled with something that she hadn't heard before. It was more than anger. It was rage. "Or 'The Subject'?"

She took another step inside, and he shot up off the couch with such speed that Erin barely saw it. He was actually shaking he was so angry. He picked up the book and opened it, reading out loud from the page.

"The subject was initially apprehensive but appears to be responding to verbal stimulation. Serum worked at 5mg diluted in 100ml solvent, desired results. The subject remembered various details of his previous life, including his name and previous relationships. Experiment called off after 5 questions as the subject showed levels of stress."

Erin knew what the notebook said, she had written it herself and reread it many times, but that didn't stop her from cringing when she heard it said aloud. The unemotional tone was almost painful.

"Bucky, I'm a scientist, that's how we do things-" She tried to explain herself, but he cut her off again, reading a passage from later on in the journal. He was walking towards her, his gait cat-like.

"The subject has appeared to make romantic advances towards me, which was unexpected. Have documented in case of further development."

"Stop." Erin said, not wanting to hear any more.

Bucky threw the book to the table with such force that a glass standing on it was knocked over. He was fuming.

"The subject, is that how you see me?"

"Buck, listen-"

"Don't fucking 'Buck' me, Jefferson. I've read the whole of this thing. I know what you think about me."

"Bucky, you need to understand. I'm a scientist. I always have been. It's all I know how to be," she was yelling now, desperate to explain herself, "I have to record the stuff that I do, it's how I think, it's how I work. I didnt understand what was happening between us, and recording things is... well... it's how I make sense of things."

"Do you see me as just another fucking experiment, Jefferson?" He was seething, a muscle in his jaw twitching as he yelled. He was stood right in front of her, his chest rising and falling with deep angry breaths.

"Of course not-"

"Then why the fuck did you write that stuff?"

He took a step back and rubbed his face with his hand.

"I thought you were different."

Those words cut through her like no others had, a shard of ice ran through her spine.

"What do you mean?"

"The Subject, The Soldier, you're all the fucking same. I'm not a real person to you, just a machine."

"Bucky, you know that's not true..."

"Do I?" He was shouting again, "Did you even feel anything when I kissed you or was it just another fucking variable in your investigation?"

"Of course I felt something," she replied, hurt that he would even think that of her. She had felt more than something, she had felt like her whole body was on fire when he had kissed her, every trace of his fingers leaving burns on her skin. That wasn't something that she could say out loud, though.

Bucky stopped for a second in thought, then asked her, "Why did you help me?"

She quirked an eyebrow in confusion at his unexpected question.

"What do you mean?"

"Did you help me because you wanted to? Or did you do it because you wanted a fucking Nobel Prize?" The venom in his voice was tangible. "Don't you dare lie to me, Erin."

She took a deep breath and thought to herself. She knew the answer, but she also knew what Bucky wanted to hear. The two things didn't quite coincide. He would tell if she was lying, though. The guy had worked as a spy for almost a decade, he knew the signs. She took a deep breath and looked him in the eyes.

"A bit of both."

He let out a sigh and shook his head.

"Wrong answer, Jefferson."

He pushed past her and walked out of the door, setting off down the stairs.

"Wait, where are you going?"

"I need some time, Erin. Don't follow me."

She tried to say something, anything in an attempt to get him to stay, but it was too late. He'd already disappeared from view.

"Shit," she muttered, closing the door and walking back into the empty silence of the room. It suddenly seemed far too big. She glanced at the table, with it's knocked over glass and the leather book placed almost carelessly on the side of it.

"Shit."

*********************

I am Sorry (TM)

PLEASE LEAVE A COMMENT AND LIKE X