Whiskey & Wine

4. 3AM

And she says baby
It's three a.m. I must be lonely
When she says baby
Well I can't help but be scared of it all sometimes
And the rain's gonna wash away I believe it

Rain beat on the windshield and Corine's heart pounded in her chest. 3 fucking AM in the morning. Leave it to Bucky.

Steve's panicked call woke her from her sleep. Dreaming deep. The good old days, when things were happy. They were happy.

"He OD'ed."

Corine was dressed and out the door, key in the ignition and on the highway in less than fifteen minutes. She'd learned to move quickly. She had to on the road.

Lights blurred and so did her vision but she needed to get there, so she stepped on the gas.

She hated hospitals. So quiet, eerie. People died there every day. Haunted, she felt like. But maybe she was the haunted one.

Steve held out the cup of coffee and she took it gratefully. It was terrible, but it burned just enough to take the edge off. Whiskey would have been better, she thought to herself.

5 AM

She'd dozed off. The small waiting room just dim enough. Steve had gone back and forth, checking on Corine and checking on Bucky. She hadn't been ready, she'd told him. Not yet.

"Rinnie," Steve whispered, shaking her shoulder just a bit. "He's awake."

The ticking of the clock and the beeping monitors the only sounds. He looked like hell, exhausted. Defeated. And in a way, he was. He hadn't wanted to come out of this one.

Corine's face added to his pain. Disappointed, hurt. Betrayed. Maybe a hint of sadness, but he knew better. She'd show no sympathy for his latest mistake. She'd run out years earlier.

He sighed softly, watching her take a seat beside him. Sitting in silence, his mind ran. "Hey, Rinnie," he breathed, turning his head to face her fully, "'m sorry."

Yeah, of course he was, always sorry when he let her down.

She simply sighed and closed her eyes. This had happened too damn many times. It was almost natural at this point.

Bucky could barely bear to look at her. To let her down again. He hated himself. And knowing in the back of his mind...the truth, well, he felt even worse. But that was something he wasn't ready to face. Not yet.

She believes that life isn't made up of all that you're used to
And the clock on the wall has been stuck at 3 for days, and days
She thinks that happiness is the mat that sits on her doorway
But outside it stopped raining

The rain had ceased. Bucky snored softly, his eyes fluttering with some dream and Corine could barely tear her eyes away from him.

It hurt like hell. Her bags were packed at home. She was in the process of selling her place. She had it planned but didn't have the damn courage to tell him or the other guys.

She worried it would be too much for Bucky. That next time he wouldn't wake up. Next time...god, always next time.

"Hey...," he said softly, his eyes opening again. His voice was rough, dry. She grabbed a cup and poured some water, bringing the straw to his lips. He drank and thanked her softly.

"Drink more," she insisted and he nodded, doing as she asked. "Thought you'd be gone," he whispered and she shook her head. "You know better, James."

He should have. She always stuck it out.

"How long?," he asked and she furrowed her brow, but she knew now. The look on his face, he knew too. Of course...he understood her just as much as she did him.

"Few months," she admitted and his face fell. Too damn soon.

"When were you gonna tell me, Rinnie? Or were you just gonna run?," he asked, a hint of bitterness in his voice. He didn't want to think about that, that he wasn't worth telling.

"Soon," she sighed. When she'd gathered the courage. "I'm still working it out, James," she lied, "I'm still trying to figure out what I wanna do." He looked at her and shook his head. He saw right the her.

"Bullshit."

"It's bullshit, Corine. I know you. I know you've been planning this for months. Maybe longer. You're running and it's on me, isn't it? It's my fault," he said bitterly.

"Contrary to popular belief," she sneered, "the world doesn't revolve around the great James Barnes. Maybe this is on me, did you think about that? That maybe I'm tired of this life? That I'm tired of all of it?"

That wasn't a lie. Corine was tired. Tired of everything. Tired of cleaning up his messes, watching him self-destruct. She needed an out and she planned on taking it.

"I get it," he said, "I get that I'm a fuckin' mess. That I drink too much. That I live too excessively. That you're always cleanin' up after me. That I'm exhausting. You deserve better."

"You deserve a break. Some happiness. Find some peace and come back to us," he begged her and she sighed, shaking her head.

"I'm not coming back."

She's got a little bit of something, god it's better than nothing
And in her color portrait world she believes that she's got it all
She swears the moon don't hang quite as high as it used to
And she only sleeps when it's raining
And she screams, and her voice is straining