Till the End of the Line

The bleak morning sun cast pale shapes on the ceiling; cold, scattered rays dancing over the whitewashed surface. Sarah's eyes followed the beams, her thoughts moving almost as fast as the light above her. She couldn't tell what she was feeling exactly, as she had done the night before when Bucky had left. She wasn't angry anymore, not with Bucky anyway, she'd never really been angry with him. Deep down she knew she'd just been projecting her anger on him, blaming him for what had happened to her. By telling herself he was devoid of any human qualities she'd been able to use him as a scapegoat. The truth was that she knew she'd brought everything on herself by letting him stay with her. She'd known he was dangerous, known it from the start, and she'd known there had always been a risk if she helped him. But before Hydra broke into her apartment everything had been so calm, almost peaceful. She'd become so used to seeing Bucky around the house, where he'd been quiet and harmless. During the attack, however, she had seen a little bit of what life used to be like for him, what he used to be like. What he was still like. And it had frightened her.
But she understood a lot more now that she did before, not that it made their situation any better. The cloud that had been hanging over her those past few days was still present, although it felt different now, more melancholic instead of frustrated. She felt even more sorry for Bucky than she ever had in the time she'd spent with him, and she felt somewhat guilty for letting him leave without saying anything… She just didn't know what she should've said, still didn't know what she should say. Her eyes wandered from the ceiling to the sofa beside the bed, expecting to see Bucky's sleeping figure on it. But he wasn't there. Sarah sat up and checked the clock on her phone. It was ten in the morning, perhaps he was already downstairs, or maybe he'd spent the night downstairs. Her ankle felt much better, even when she put a little pressure on it to hobble to the bathroom. She was sure it wouldn't be long now before she'd be able to walk normally again.

The sky was a dreary shade of grey and dark clouds were drifting over the city, gathering close together. It didn't take long before rain started pouring down, clattering against the windows. When Sarah came downstairs she expected to find Bucky in the living room, but except for Sergeant Tibbs who was lying curled up in a corner of the couch, there was no one in there. She returned to the hallway to look in the study, but he wasn't in there either. A little worried, she scanned the rest of the house, but he was gone.
Sarah had never thought that when he left the room he'd also leave the house, knowing what a risk it was for either one of them to go outside. She felt even more guilty and worried when she went back downstairs and sat down next to Sergeant Tibbs. The cat raised his sleepy head when he noticed Sarah's presence, stretched his legs, then crawled onto her lap and resumed his nap. Sarah stroked him absent-mindedly, staring at the garden beyond the rain-flecked windows, but all she saw was a blur of colours in the gloomy half-light. Where had he gone? What was he doing? Would he come back, or would she never see him again? He couldn't just leave her… could he? Her eyes welled up while her thoughts raced on like this and she couldn't stop the burning tears from falling down her cheeks.

Sarah decided to go back upstairs. She didn't feel like running into Olivia, as she didn't want her to see how miserable she was, not when she couldn't tell her why. When she returned to the bedroom she took Sergeant Tibbs with her, to keep her company. Rather than lying down on the bed, Sarah snuggled up on the sofa, where Bucky usually slept. Tibbs lay sprawled on top of her chest, his purring almost inaudible over the sound of the rain and the low rumble of thunder in the distance.
Later that day Sarah received a text from Olivia, who was already at work at that time, saying she was going to have dinner with her parents that evening, and she'd probably be back late. This came as a relief to Sarah, who had been dreading dinnertime and having to explain James' absence.

She had no idea when she'd fallen asleep, she had been too anxious to notice how tired she was. A noise had woken her, and she sat up straight, staring around the room in confusion. The lights were turned on and the storm outside was still roaring. But it wasn't the thunder and rain that had startled her: it was the sound of creaking wood. When she looked up she saw Bucky standing in the threshold, drenched from head to toe and dripping onto the panelled floor, his face half hidden under a hood. Sarah stared, she could hardly believe he was really back, unless this was a dream. Rising quickly from the sofa , she hobbled over to him, to touch him, to make sure he was real. She paused when she stood right in front of him, hesitating for a moment while he gazed down at her. Tentatively, she stretched out her hand and pulled his hood down. His hair was soaked as well and she wiped a few strands off his cold cheek.
"You're back…" she whispered. He nodded.
"Where did you go? Why did you go?"
"I was going to leave D.C. and give you a chance to get your life back," he started slowly, "but I realised I couldn't just leave you," he frowned a little, "not without saying goodbye. It didn't feel… right."
Sarah could feel tears welling up again, but she tried to keep from spilling them.
"So you only came back to say goodbye?"
He nodded again.
"And then? You'll leave again?"
He nodded a third time.
"No… you can't leave. I'm sorry I said those things to you, I was angry, I wasn't thinking… I didn't mean..."
"I know, but I can't stay."
"Of course you can! You have to stay… you can't…"
Bucky shushed her with a gesture of his hand, and took a step towards her.
"I just wanted to do you the courtesy of a decent goodbye, but you know that you'll be better off without me."
Sarah shook her head vigorously, one tear rolled down her cheek and she wiped it away quickly.
"Please don't go," she whispered, trying to suppress more tears, "at least… not without me."
Bucky bit his lip and frowned.
"Without you?" he asked quietly.
"I can't stay here either, and it'd be much better if we stick together…"
He looked down at her, apparently thinking hard.
"You don't understand... Coming with me will be a lot more dangerous: if we leave here we wouldn't have a place to hide any more, nowhere will be safe."
"I'll be safe with you," she muttered. His lips twitched a little, as if he was about to smile, even though he was still frowning.
"I don't think you realise what you're getting yourself into…"
"I'm already in it, though, aren't I?"
Bucky opened his mouth to speak, but reconsidered. Silently, he took his dripping hoodie off and moved to the cupboard to take out a towel. Drying his face and hair on the towel, he walked to the foot of the bed and sat down with a sigh. Sarah looked at him intently.
"Does this mean you're staying?" she asked.
"It's very hard to convince you of doing what's good for you, not when you've already made up your mind. I tried before, but you're just too…" he paused.
"Too what?" she prompted him.
"Too… stubborn."
Sarah gave a watery smile, and he returned it with one of his usual almost-smiles.