Battlefield ★ Bucky Barnes

XXIV. I Respect Your Choice

Connie winced as she pulled the adhesive bandage off of the wound on her abdomen. The wound was healing, but it wasn't healing as quickly as Connie would've liked it to be. From what she could make of it, she had about another week or two until it was completely scabbed over, and she couldn't wait for that. The wound was a real inconvenience to her as far as being able to combat and move regularly went, and she wanted nothing more than for it to be gone.

As Connie grabbed a new bandage from the bag on her king-sized bed, the door to her bedroom opened, startling her slightly. Bucky walked into the room, only stopping when he saw Connie very painfully cover her bare abdomen with her arms.

"You could knock, y'know?" Connie breathed out as she glanced over at him.

"S-sorry," he replied nervously.

Bucky moved to head back out of the room, but stopped when he noticed the bruising that covered the near entirety of her abdomen. He frowned and began moving towards her, watching as she replaced her old bandage with a new one.

"I did this to you," Bucky said as his eyes scanned the deep bruising, his voice nearly a whisper.

Connie looked up at him as she finished replacing the bandage and she pulled her shirt down, prompting Bucky to look at her rather than the bruising on her stomach. "No, you didn't."

"I was there," Bucky recalled. "I know what happened."

"Hydra had control of your mind, Bucky," Connie sighed. "You were only trying to complete your mission, which, unfortunately, included trying to get rid of me. You're not responsible for anything that happened that day, okay? Don't beat yourself up over it, please."

Connie moved to get past him in order to finish getting dressed, but he grabbed her by the arm and pulled her back, his eyes falling onto the laceration on her face. The bruising around it was fading slightly, but the fact of it didn't make him feel any better. He had been transitioning between the soldier and himself so much during his final confrontation; he remembered telling himself not to hurt her or Steve, but the soldier was intent on completing his mission.

"It doesn't change anything." Bucky then met her eyes, "I still hurt you. . .and I hurt Steve. . .and for some reason, knowing that I did tears me apart more than anything I've ever done in my lifetime. I will never be able to express how sorry I am for hurting you, Connie. . .never."

Connie reached down to grab his hand and remove it from her arm, as she could not handle the feeling his touch provided her with. "You have absolutely nothing to be sorry about—not a thing. I knew confronting you with Steve while you were under Hydra's control would be a dangerous gamble for me to partake in; I knew that there was the possibility that you would be so gone and so intent on completing your mission that there was a possibility I wouldn't live to complete my own, but I was prepared to take that risk in order to get you back."

"But why would you risk yourself to save me, Connie?"

"The same reason I risked myself for you back in 1945," Connie assured him with a small smile. "Sooner or later, everything will start to make much more sense than it already does, I promise."

"'Everything' as in the extent of my relationship with you?" Bucky asked, his voice slightly shaky.

Connie let out a breath and nodded as she moved away from him. "If that's something you want to make sense, then yes. I have to go, though, okay? Steve's expecting me."