chapter fourteen // the calm before the storm

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"But something out there's calling, a whisper we call home." -As We Are Now by Saint Raymond

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Athena

After Bucky managed to pull himself together somewhat, Athena pulled away from the hug and gently guided him to the showers. Bucky was exhausted, so he was slow to move and he shuffled about blindly, guided only by Athena's hands. She helped him until eventually he had all his supplies, and once she heard the water start to run, she sat down on a bench just outside the shower area and put her head in her hands.

She knew this feeling she had in the pit of her stomach; she recognized it all too well. She desperately wished she could ignore it. She was doing the worst thing a psychologist, or any doctor for that matter, could possibly do.

She was falling in love with her patient.

The second she admitted it to herself, she struggled to keep her smile in; but deep down she knew just how bad this was. Just how very, very bad this was.

He was a patient of hers, not a date she'd found at a bar. This was unorthodox and wrong. She was to treat him -- not fall in love with him. If anyone were to find out, she would definitely be fired, and she wouldn't be allowed to testify at James' hearing for fear of her work being biased. She groaned, angry with herself.

But she couldn't help it. He was nothing like anyone she'd ever known. She was used to talking to people were were fake, or who had no genuine interest in hearing what she had to say, or who simply bored her. James Buchanan Barnes was heartbreakingly real; every bit of him was genuine and kind and caring. When she spoke, he clung to her words, like they were the only thing that mattered. He could snap a neck in a second if he wanted to, but his touch, when it came to her, was nothing but gentle. His eyes hid so many stories -- decades of a life she would never truly understand.

But she wanted to understand his stories. She wanted to be the one beside him when he woke up from a nightmare -- wanted to be the set of arms he sought when his thoughts turned black. She wanted to save him, from himself and others; because he was too strong and too brave and too beautiful to suffer. But her saving him would risk everything she'd ever worked for.

And as if it wasn't bad enough to go against every single moral she had as a doctor, she also was falling for someone she could never have. James was being held in a maximum security psych ward, and was going on trial in four days under charges of murder and domestic terrorism. Athena knew that none of what he did was his fault, but other people didn't know this -- so there was a more than likely chance that in four days he'd be shipped off to a maximum security prison and be forced to live out the rest of his days scared, broken, and alone. He'd never know that Athena loved him, he and Athena would never get to be together, and Athena would have to live out the rest of her life knowing that he was suffering and there was nothing she could do about it. And if she told him of her feelings before the trial, and her love for him somehow leaked, she would be unable to testify on his behalf and there would be no defense for him at all. Then he would without a doubt be sent to a maximum security prison. Or worse -- he'd receive the death penalty.

She couldn't have him. There was no way she'd ever get to truly, uninhibitedly love him like she wanted to. Life was just too in the way at this point.

But as she sat there with her head in her hands and a knot in her throat, she allowed herself to dream of a different scenario. One in which James was free; free from the burden Hydra had placed on him, free from the federal government, and free to love Athena. One in which the blood on his hands and the voices in his head were gone. One in which her pattern of loneliness was broken by his melodic voice and the warmth of his flesh against hers.

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