Part 9

                                    

                                          
DoNt TeLl My BoYfRiEnD wHaT iVe BeEn DoInG


   Bucky was tired, so tired. He felt as if he couldn't even trust his bones to hold him up anymore, everything was so overwhelming.
   Don't let it show. Don't let any of it show. 
   He'd been training those lifeless little ballerinas for weeks, but it was the first time his handler had let him train the girls knowing he had his memories. Or maybe he had known all along and was testing him. Bucky was woken up by the sharp clang of metal on metal as Karpov banged on his cell door every morning at 5, if he even slept. 
   And most nights, it was impossible to. 
   Yelena had left one week ago, and Natasha hadn't seen him for days. She'd probably guessed what happened. During training now, he pushed her as hard as ever. The other girls' endurances  were being tested further, too. Pushing them gave him something to focus on other than his anxieties, which somehow managed to cling to his back like a straightjacket. 
   Stretching her legs into a front split and arching her back, Natasha glanced at his quiet, unmoving form. He raised his eyebrows, hands clasped in front of him as if he were wearing handcuffs. 
   She gulped and leaned forward. 
   "Turn out your back leg, Romanoff." He told her. 
   The three bystanders sat on metal chairs in the corner of the training room, judging his teachig skills silently. He knew his teaching was spotless, so he wasn't concerned by their cold expressions adorned with condescending frowns. 
   Karpov's eyes were like bullets in Bucky's brain. He avoided looking at him and stepped into the light, coming closer to the other girls. Bucky could feel those figurative bullets in the back of his head, sharp, violent, as he bent down to left on girl's foot off the floor with a steady hand. 
   He tapped her head gently, and she stretched it up so that she was staring straight at her foot.  "[Point harder, Relovna. I want lower arches and more turnout... That's it, keep your elbows up, don't sink on your right hip.]"
   Her eyes fluttered across his face for the first time in years, and she clenched her jaw. He tilted his head slightly at her, said, "[Focus.]" 
   Bucky watched more, hand on his hip as she obeyed him determinedly. But he knew she wasn't determined enough. This one will break, Bucky thought with sympathy... then shoved that emotion down. No need to give Karpov more of an excuse to hurt him. 
   Breathing deeply through his nose, Bucky moved on to the next girl and put his hand on her lower rib cage. "[I want this chest facing the ceiling, and that back knee bent a little more...]"
   He missed teaching Yelena.


   Bucky shifted his head, his shoulders tipping slightly to where she had been sitting. Reaching for... her? And he startled awake suddenly, his fresh, peircing blue eyes meeting her's.
   In that moment, all she wished for was his happiness. His smile back. Bucky wanted to relax, but he knew he couldn't, and that's why he had pain in his eyes.  
   When he reached for her, did he think she'd make him feel better? 
   His eyes softened, and her heart beat like a drum in her ears. Bucky sighed, and leaned forward, hands moving up to touch her's. He looked miniscule, his head lowered as he sat in from of her. 
   Standing, he was nine inches taller than her, gigantic in height compared to Yelena. But now he barely filled up the small space he seemed to occupy as he grasped her hands in his. This time, she didn't pull away. She knew she'd hurt him more if she did, being as fragile as eh was at the moment.
   Yelena was unsure what to do. Should she run out the door and let him heal without having to worry that he'd be triggered again? But triggers weren't that predictable, though there was a large chance it would happen again, and he might hurt her or even himself. She knew that if it happened again, it would be as bad as before. 
   The affects were painted all over him: his body language, and the way spoke were slightly different.
   "I know what you want to do, Yelena," he whispered. 
   She leaned closer to hear, and he took a shaky breath. "What - what happened, it really hurt." His voice broke. "But if you leave... Hell, if you leave, it'll hurt so much more. I - I don't think I can do it,"
   Tears formed in Yelena's eyes. His vibranium finger plates didn't pinch as he gently squeesed. He didn't want to let go. 
   Finally, Bucky swung his head up with those handsome, vintage eyes that held the weariness of time in them, the coldness of the past, and a small spark of hope.  She love the hope so much. It looked beautiful on him. 
   "It really hurt," he repeated himself in a much calmer way than before, and he smiled. "It's going to keep hurting, but... what's new? Stay with me. Please."
   Such simple words, but Yelena felt her heart expand. Bucky's hands shifted, and he lifted her hands over his head. She let out a deep breath, getting down on her knees and hugging him tightly. 
   His fingers stroking her hair gave her a pure, rushing feeling that spread across whole body like  a cool breeze in the summer. She wanted him to keep doing it, but he paused and looked at her. "Will you stay?"
  Yelena was angry at herself for feelign the way she did earlier, but what did those touches mean? Her rebellious heart hammered hard, fear of the unknown pervading her. Maybe he knew he needed it, he might still be touch-starved. 
   "I..." She took a deep breath, seeing fear in Bucky's eyes. He'd opened up to her in so many ways, she couldn't imagine how challenging it must feel to be him. "I'm scared, Bucky!" Yelena burst out, unable to keep this from him. 
   He said nothing, fingers going back to stroking as he pulled her closer against him. His other arm circled her shoulders gently. "It'll be okay..." he whispered, his lips brushing her ear. She knew it was accidental from the way he pulled back a little right away. "It'll be okay, someday."
   "What if it won't?" 
   "We can give it a shot, can't we?"
   "Sure, Bucky... Sure."
   "I mean it. We'll make it."
   "Make it to where, though?"
   "We'll figure that out, too. Don't worry."
   Yelena chuckled. "But it's impossible not to worry about it. You know that."
   "Yeah..."
   Bucky lifted his hands away from her, wincing. "S - sorry,"
   "What? What for?" His face flushed. "Ooooh," Yelena realized, and slapped her forehead. "Right. Bucky, don't apologize for that."
   She stood up and gave him quick wink before grabbing a waffle and flouncing away from him with a grin. She left him sitting there looking blank and confused. In the kitchen where he couldn't see her, she screamed silently, scrunching up her face. 
   "Uh - Yelena?" Bucky asked.
   "Bucky, go to sleep! Now!" Yelena commanded. She heard him grumble loudly, but amung the unintelligable grumbles was a brief, "Fine!"