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Fortune of A Broken Man - Chapter 3 - Avengers Fanfiction | Bucky Barnes-centric |

Word Count: 2,340

Chapters: 03/50 Status: Finished prior to publishing

Trigger warnings: Vulgarity / allusion to schizophrenia / mentions and explorations of mental illness / war and PTSD

[ could not find a good enough gif and the gif loader hates me lol bye ]

Chapter 3: Snakes

"You see that? Eyes of a killer. Stone cold and cruel," Lizbeth sighed.

An intern named Pamela stood beside her, doing her best not to quiver in fear.

"You do see it, right? The way he stares at you, just waiting.."

Pamela nodded vigorously. She stared wide eyed at Barnes who sat stock still in the center of the room on the floor. "He's so scary," she whispered.

Lizbeth barked out a laugh and clamped her hand down on the shorter woman's shoulder. Pamela is very, very short.

"I'm just fuckin' with you, love," Lizbeth giggled. "When I look at him, I actually see a very sad man. Probably a romantic. Aren't those eyes just dreamy."

Pamela wasn't sure of what to say. She leaned closer to the window, as though it could shatter if she so much as sneezed. "I... I mean, yeah, actually.."

Lizbeth's lips quirked in a smile but she didn't say a word.

Pamela continued, placing both hands on the window as she peered at him. "He's kind of got that James Dean vibe, I guess. Aw, he needs a hug."

"What he needs," Lizbeth said as she draped herself across Pam's shoulders, "Is for you to realise his eyes aren't telling you anything. They're just blue, and quite tired."

They stared at each other, amusement meeting confusion. "What...?"

Lizbeth steered her back to face Barnes, "Look," she pointed out, "The man is just sitting on the floor, staring at the mirror. There is nothing else to be said. He isn't anything but really, really fatigued. He can't even see you, this is mirrored glass," she said, tapping it, "He's just staring in our direction because logically, he's aware there's probably a bunch of prudish lab coats analyzing him right now."

"But... you said.."

"I know what I said. At first you thought he was evil, or something, and now he's your own Romeo, or maybe a frog that needs a kiss. And a shave. Nothing changed except what I said. It's all too easy to read too much into something. Pretenses kill."

Pamela blushed a deep scarlet, "Sorry," she muttered.

"Hey, it's fine. You're interning to learn, and look! Active learning!"

It had been nearly four hours since she had left Pam to colour coordinate the dossiers and categorically compile her research notes. It was completely unnecessary, of course, but it certainly made it easier for Lizbeth to decipher her own chicken-scratch.

According to the nightly recordings from JARVIS, Barnes had not slept a wink, but at least attempted to rest by taking up the cot offered to him. He had exceeded her expectations by a mile, and that bothered her more than she cared to admit.

Watching him now, it remained obvious that the man was in a deep fugue state. He would twitch every two minutes with less than a second of difference in the repetition. Every ten to fifteen minutes he would get up and wander seemingly aimlessly around the room before returning to his hunched perch on the side of the bed.

It made her restless just to watch him. Like clockwork, each calculated action resembled a man strung up like a doll in a childs play room. But it was impulsive, and reeked of fear.

Barnes had thankfully eaten Steves meal, and the cornflakes Pam had slid through the delivery slot on the door that morning. Even if she had nearly dropped the bowl in terror.

Lizbeth crinkled her nose at the memory of Steve's 'homecooked delight'. SPAM, with bonebroth soup. Smell is a powerful memory, and Lizbeth did not want to remember the heavy tang of preservatives. At least he'd taken her words seriously and gone with something Barnes would be hard-pressed to forget. She certainly wouldn't forget it any time soon.

Even now, Barnes was coiled tight like a grenade. He watched her through the mirrored glass. A wild animal calculating her intentions and tracking her habits. She stared back unflinchingly, perversely taking delight in the unease it brought him.

She had lied to Pam. Despite the mirrored glass technically obscuring them, Barnes seemed to be unhindered by it. His eyes bore into her. How he did this, Lizbeth did not know, but she'd hazard a guess it had something to do with his super serum abilities. Even the documents SHIELD had swiped from HYDRA prior to their collapse did not fully detail the extent of the super serum. Steve had kindly (re: waspishly) informed her that Barnes had been administered a bastardized version of his WW2 serum. But that really didn't tell her much.

One had to wonder, naturally, what went through his head. As far as she knew, the Ol' Doctor Strange could peer into the heads of those under his care, whether by force or permitted. Wanda, alike, could view the on-goings of his brain. Lizbeth had her own methods of examination. But if she forced her way in.. it would likely be easier to get through to the Hulk than James Barnes.

She pressed the buzzer forcefully.

"How do you feel, Mr Barnes?"

He stiffened almost painfully, eyes widening a fraction. Internally debating with himself as to whether or not to respond, he stayed mute.

"That's no fun," Lizbeth muttered. She pressed the buzzer again. "Would you like Mr Rogers to visit?"

He eyeballed her as though she'd kicked his cat.

"So much rage," she mused, "No wonder he was the perfect weapon for HYDRA."

As though doing so would bring him grevious harm, James nodded reluctantly.

"I'll have him sent up, then," she informed him, "My name is Miss Burke, by the way. Tony Stark hired me to get through to you. You know who he is, don't you?"

More silent rage.

"Well, he remembers you, Mr Barnes. Yet his morality has him showing you kindness. Like it or not, you won't come to harm here."*

He, obviously, did not believe her.

After the good Captain had responded to her summons, she had taken a seat on the leather couch. Her clipboard held sheets of crinkled paper dotted with notes, scribbles, and lewd drawings of the two men in Barnes' illustrious accommodation.

Steve had practically hurtled through the door, having apparently misunderstood JARVIS' request. He must have come from the gym, as he was dripping in sweat, and looked ready to fight a god.

Lizbeth wondered who would win a fight, Steve or Thor.

She started another graphic drawing.

Beyond the mirrored glass, Steve sat with James, trying to coax him into talking. While he had been fairly vocal yesterday, it seemed his situation had sunk in, and the man refused to even sigh.

It infuriated Steve for reasons he couldn't fathom. Lizbeth herself didn't care- she had all the time in the world, a nice salary, and access to whatever resources she wanted. She could probably kill in cold blood and have it hushed up.

"I'm telling you," Steve said, "Miss Burke is harmless."

Lizbeth snorted without looking up. Barnes looked no more convinced than she did.

"She's just a shrink Stark hired to help you. We just want you back, and in control, Buck," Steve sighed, wringing his hands. "HYDRA can't touch you here. We're actively hunting them, and their numbers have been reduced drastically. While you were in cryo in Wakanda, T'Challa signed a defense sanction with the White House. There's a North American task force scouring earth for any sign of them."

'Nice choice of words there, Steve,' Lizbeth thought, 'Specifying earth to a man who isn't aware mythology is actually history won't raise alarm bells at all.'

As if to prove her right, Barnes' eyebrow nearly floated off his face. Rogers mistakenly took this as a sign Barnes remained doubtful of his words.

"Our team has expanded, too," Steve said, nearly pleading, "It isn't just the six of us anymore. We have Wanda, Peter, Sam, Vision, and a number of SHIELD agents on board."

"Who the fuck is Peter?" Lizbeth said to herself. She ran through the faces of the Avengers and realised it was probably the Spider dude who like shooting sticky white stuff at people. She snorted, and returned to her drawing.

"Wanda is from Sokovia," Steve continued, staring at his feet. He spoke almost as if Barnes was in a coma, not sitting nary a foot away and scrutinising him. "And is an enhanced. HYDRA took her and her brother, and really did a number on them. But Wanda helped us destroy the Sokovian and Ukranian HYDRA bases during Ultron."

"Who he doesn't know," she sighed. "You're gonna give him an anxiety attack at this rate, Cap."

The hammer she had artifully sketched for Thor looked more like a popsicle.

"Peter is just a kid, but he tries his best. You remember him, right? He managed to pin you down on the hellicarrier."

Barnes frowned.

"Ah, a-and Sam is ex-military. A pararescue. You threw him off the helicarrier," Steve stuttered.

Barnes frown grew heavier.

"But, well, ah," Steve grew flustered, aware he was only making things worse, "Vision is nice. He was Tony's AI, but he stole the body Dr Cho made, before Ultron could have it."

"Jesus christ, you idiot," Lizbeth sighed, dumping her x-rated drawings and stomping over to the mirror. She stabbed the buzzer. "Steve," she cut in irritably, "Why don't you try not to give the man a stroke. You've now convinced him half the people in this building want his head on a stick."

Steve's head snapped back to glare at her. Barnes looked ready to explode. She sighed again, forgetting her finger was on the buzzer. A creepy woosh filled the air.

"Wanda is a telekinetic and telepathic enhanced who swore allegiance to the Captain. If that's worth anything to you, Mr Barnes. Peter is an idiot who is afraid of his shadow, and more specifically you, Barnes. He can't handle gore and hates HYDRA like the rest of us. Sam has forgiven you. I spoke at length with him about it, and he admits that, if he were you, he would have done the same thing. Vision is an artificially created human who put his newborn existence on the line for earth. None of these people pose a threat to you unless you are trying to harm them or their loved ones."

Silence reigned as Steve alternated between glaring at her and peering with concern at Barnes.

James himself had resumed his boring stare through the mirror. Completely at ease, Lizbeth stared back with a blank face. She wanted to shriek boo but the consequences could be mortal, so she refrained. Instead, she settled for meeting his eyes and displaying a weak sympathy on her face.

After a moment, he relaxed. Her actions indicated her honesty, and while he couldn't trust her, he could believe her.

Lizbeth knew how to lie through teeth, even better than she could breathe. Which can be hard, when one is a chronic smoker.

When Steve stepped from Barnes' room, he looked like he wanted to smack her through the wall and out into the muggy Manhattan air. She smiled breezily at him, curling her fingers in a suggestive manner.

"What are you playing at?" he spat, nearly shaking with rage.

Her eyebrows raised. "I didn't do anything, Rogers."

"Yes," he roared, uncharacteristically pissed off, "You did. You nearly f-you- what do you think that was, huh?"

She swallowed, contemplating the right answer. Truth wouldn't work in her favor, but if she lied, he'd smell it a mile off.

"I corrected you. Barnes' began to exhibit signs of an anxiety attack, which in his current state, could land one or both of you in the ICU. Given his past, the best thing for him is blunt honesty and no tip-toeing around sensitive subjects."

Steve stared at her with barely restrained something simmering in his blue eyes. She sighed and stood up, taking a step towards him. He briefly showed surprise before he closed himself off to her again. Unlike most, she casually walked towards the man who could crush her skull with two fingers as though she weren't a frail human, and he wasn't the big bad wolf. To be fair, Barnes' would probably be the wolf in this situation.

Although, frankly, Lizbeth embodied the Black Adder snake that would snap at a dogs heels.

Very slowly, giving him time to step away from her- which he didn't- Lizbeth placed a calming hand upon his forearm. "Steve," she said quietly, "I'm sorry. I know I showed you up, and that wasn't my intention, but I also didn't want you to push Barnes' back into his shell and set us back a week. You didn't do anything wrong. You know your best friend better than I know my left hand, but Steve, I'm a shrink, and I'm here to help. That includes you. You can tell me how you feel- about everything, towards Barnes, Stark, even me. But don't let yourself act in a way that will give you shame latter."

Her words cut through him like he was a sponge, and it rocked his composure. She had spoken like she knew him and it frightened him.

"You're here for Bucky and it should stay that way."

She gave him a knowing look. "How about we cut today short. Could you still prepare a dinner for him?"

He nodded sharply and nearly pushed her off him as he strode away hurriedly. After the door clicked behind him, she shook her head. "Definitely feel shame in the morning."

"Oh, Mr Barnes, what have they done to you?"

A/N:

*Anybody know what I'm referring to? First person to get it can have an OC named after them.

I would like to apologise for this late update. I had to leave my previous home rather suddenly and the last few days have been me settling into a new place. I needed to edit over this and make sure a few small details line up with what happens in the coming chapters.

The next chapter will be up tomorrow. I know this is somewhat of a filler chapter but it didn't flow right to be 1 super long chappy. Sowwy.

BAI

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