Monster

Chapter 10: He Ate My Heart

It took you twenty minutes to get ready, ten alone were dedicated to calming your nerves down. You texted Steve asking where Bucky was, which he replied that he should be in his room. The walk to his room wasn't that long as it was on the same floor as yours, but each step you took felt like it was in slow motion. It didn't help your nerves at all, but before your mind could play out scenarios with how everything could go to shit, Bucky's door was right in front of you.

But what if he's sleeping? I couldn't wake him; he rarely gets sleep. I should come by later...

"Y/N?"

You yelped at the sound of your name being called from behind you. There he stood with a gray shirt matching a black pair of sweats that made him look as casual as ever. Your eyes landed on the bowl he carried, it was definitely mac and cheese by the looks and smell of it.

You stood there looking at him or rather everywhere but him while he looked at the floor after the initial shock of seeing you. There was a thick air surrounding you both and you couldn't help but think about how it was the unspoken topic was different for the both of you. Bucky most likely was trying to apologize for his lapse and berate himself for almost killing you, Steve, and Wanda. He'd probably already talked to Steve as he was his best friend, and Wanda knowing the man was incapable of being anything but socially anxious, relived the man from having to explain himself and waited to see if he would let her see what he wanted to tell her—he trusted her enough to not go places he didn't want to be seen. And that left you. You were different, you were not Steve who he had grown up with, you were someone who had grown under his care while he was mentally stuck for decades.

"Umm Steve told me you wanted to see me?" Your voice didn't raise any more than a faint whisper. Your eyes shifted to see his face which was still being hidden by his long hair as he looked at the bowl of Mac & Cheese.

"Yeah," that's all Bucky said. You suppressed a sigh at his response.

"Look, I know why you wanted to talk—" you crossed your arms across your chest and kept your eyes on him "—and you don't have to apologize. It wasn't your fault."

"But it—" Bucky raised his head to look at you, but his voice died down as his eyes roamed your neck "—was."

You frowned at his sudden stoic face. His eyes were on you and you saw how dark they looked. You took a step closer, but he instantly took a step back.

"Hey, it's okay," you tried to assure him, but you weren't quite sure why.

"No, it's not okay. You said that it wasn't my fault but who was the one that couldn't keep it together? Who was the one that almost killed Steve? Wanda? Who was the one you gave you that bruise?"

Your right hand went to your neck as he pointed it out. He looked dejected at the ground, "It was me."

"You can't blame yourself for something you had no control over, Bucky." You tried to take another step toward him and grab his free hand, but he took another step back almost dropping the bowl. He turned from you and walked toward the kitchen.

"Damn it, Bucky! Stop blaming yourself for every single thing wrong in your life!"

"How can I not, Y/N?!" He roughly set down the bowl on his hand on the kitchen counter. He turned to face you again, and this time his face was closer to yours.

"How do you want me to live knowing that I'm a fucking ticking bomb that no one knows when it's going to go off!"

You were going to say something back, but he stopped you.

"No, you listen to me now. I tried really fucking hard to keep it together, but every goddamn nightmare is bringing me closer to the edge of completely losing myself. I'm scared to go outside of this building alone. The idea of meeting people makes me sick to the stomach because I'm waiting for the day my demons come back to kill me." He looked red on the face, his voice shook as he kept talking, and all you could do was stare.