After She Left

Ghost of me

"My one heart hurt another

So only one life can't be enough

Can you give me just another

For that one who got away"

Lykke Li's "No Rest for the Wicked"

After Bucky introduced Sam to Isaiah Bradley and got himself arrested, they were at the precinct where all Bucky's worlds seemed to collide. John Walker, Sam Wilson, and Dr. Raynor were all in one place, and it was a lot for him to absorb. Perhaps too much, and he was filled with a dread of where this could go. He broke his promise, essentially the parole he was given for his pardon, and now he had to face the consequences.

But really, he knew that he would run into something like this sooner or later. He wasn't exactly well behaved, and sneaking off to another country and missing his therapy were lines crossed too far. He couldn't help but feel frustration with John Walker for dipping his hands into things that were none of his business – the man interfered with Bucky's therapy.

And while Bucky didn't often like going, he knew that it was for the best that he attended. That he talked to someone, and he would only continue to go if someone was forcing his hand. Walker interfering with that meant that no one was forcing his hand anymore, and he knew he wouldn't keep attending.

A lot of people seemed to think that they knew what was best for Bucky. Steve bringing Ophelia back. The government and Dr. Raynor with her therapy. Walker breaking that contract.

"James," Dr. Raynor said as Bucky was released from his containment. "Condition of your release, session now. You too, Sam."

"That's okay, I'll be out here with..."

"That wasn't a request," Raynor stated firmly.

Bucky, leaned against the desk, knew it was better than to try and argue with her. He cast Sam a rueful look, before following Raynor to an interrogation room that was reminiscent of where Bucky spent most of his life. Caged in a metal box. Still, it was on equal footing with the false ambiance that Raynor's actual office portrayed. At least the metal box wasn't trying to be something it wasn't.

In the room with Sam and Raynor, Bucky's worlds colliding with whiplash force, he felt the unease creep in. He didn't want to talk about his feelings, he didn't want Sam to be there to hear it, and he sure as hell didn't want Ophelia to come up.

Or worse, show up.

Raynor and Sam spoke for a moment, and Bucky realized they were addressing him.

"-to get over whatever is eating at you," Raynor finished.

Bucky was tense, shoulders nearly at his ears.

"This is ridiculous," Sam said.

"Yeah. I agree," Bucky stated. Because what was eating at him wasn't one thing, it was a million things. Like a colony of ants nibbling away at his flesh. One back-alley therapy session with Sam there to call him names wasn't fixing the problem.

The tension, the lack of speaking.

Then Raynor suggested the soul gazing exercise. They shifted their chairs to face on another, eyes locked onto each other. Closer and closer, they shifted, they argued, and then suddenly Sam's knee was pressed right up against Bucky's-

"Guys!" Raynor shouted as they bickered.

They gazed.

They gazed with ferocity.