The ghosts we hide (Winter Soldier x OC)

Fifty

A/N: listen to touch - sleeping at last . Atlas: II

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I take a car back to the tower by myself and go straight to my room.

No one comes to see me.

I doubt anyone wants to.

Where there was anger and malice is now abhorrence and self loathing, my very soul feeling sickly and heavy with guilt.

Craving some form of comfort, I change into sweatpants and that black hoodie Natasha gave me. Even though I'm sure the item is stolen, it's still my favourite thing to wear.

My feet find their way to the bed and I sit, careful to avoid my stinging shoulder, propped up on pillows so that I can watch the city outside. But the usual bright busyness of the world is now dizzying, feeding the nausea in my stomach to the point that I have to close my eyes. The moment I do though, all I can see is Ilenova's daughter's seven year old face.

Mary Annika Ruperts - that's her name. I don't dare allow myself to soil the words by speaking them out loud.

I threatened to kill her.

The acid in the back of my throat is so strong that I have to open my eyes again, focusing instead on the sky outside.

I stay like that for hours, her bright smile branded in my head and the mark of monsters branded on my back.

It's not until the sun has finally dipped behind the furthest skyscraper and the stars are drowned out by the brighter lights of the city below that something breaks me from my self disgusted stupor.

A knock at the door pulls me from my spiralling thoughts, a deep anxiety settling in my stomach.

They must all hate me.

I remain silent, frozen in place as I watch the white panel of the door, waiting to see if whoever is there will be brave enough to enter.

After a few moments, it opens.

Bucky's blue eyes find mine in the darkness of the room, light spilling in from the hallway to combat the shadows on the floor.

"Hi."

His tone is soft, unsure.

"Hi." I croak back after a pause, removing my gaze from his and replacing it on the ceiling.

The air is heavy with silence for a long while, the man hovering in the doorway as I remain curled up on the bed. His eyes are on my hunched figure and don't leave, as if trying to look into my head and read my thoughts and emotions.

I hear him shuffle, and then:

"You missed dinner."

I hum quietly in reply, my head nodding a fraction as my gaze remains forwards, not on the super soldier. Maybe I'm afraid of what I'll see if I dare look anywhere else. Maybe I'm afraid I'll see how I feel about myself reflected in his eyes.

My heart rate doesn't slow as he continues to stand there, watching me watch the sky. I wait for him to speak the words I'm dreading, but he doesn't.

"Come with me." He says suddenly, the words whispered in dulcet tones.

I look at him then, searching for a clue as to his intentions.