A slip (Platonic)
Summary: You struggle with your demons, and the Thunderbolts try to help. At first, it goes wrong...but they find a way to make it work.
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You had found friends. People to have your back and help you with your demons.
Those demons, however, made you go back to old methods of sedation.
Drink, to be specific.
You knew your brain was lying. It was one thing that brought you all together, what your individual minds told you.
Yet, you still buried yours. Despite how open you had all become about mental health - even forcing Val to give you mental health days - you still hid yours.
Old ways and all that.
It was Bucky who found the stash of cans and bottles under your bed.
What hurt him, wasn't the fact that you hid them - he didn't blame you for that at all - no, it was instead the fact that you thought they'd judge you for it.
Walker entered the room, seeing it open, his eyebrows furrowing at why Bucky was there.
Bucky held up a can.
Walker sighed, "Damn. How many?"
"About a dozen."
He ran a hand down his face, "shit."
"Shit," Bucky echoed.
"So, what do we do?"
Bucky paused for a moment, not entirely used to Walker not having some sort of plan.
"Clean up first, then go from there."
Walker nodded, going into mission mode already, "I'll get the bag."
“Hey,” he called out, “we don’t judge them for this, ok?”
“No matter how many downs,” John said, “that’s the promise we made each other when we saved Bob.”
Bucky nodded.
Damn right they did.
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Yelena's phone went off. You were having one of the mandated mental health days. Just you and her, the others all doing their own thing.
She looked at it, before her eyes then went to you.
You finished buying the food you'd gotten from the shop you were in, before turning to her.
"What?" you asked, softly.
She shook her head, "nothing," she assured, "you have everything you need?"
You nodded, "yup. Even something for Alexei," you said, holding up a vodka bottle.
She rolled her eyes, not too insulted, "really?" her accent really came through.
"He's like a walking stereotype. Has the dad who's genuinley trying, though."
She softed, "he is. That's true."
You continued walking on, Yelena astonished that no one recognised either of you in your more civilian wear.
It reminded her of what life could have been had…everything, not happened.
She then looked to you, seeing you have a similar haunted look in your eyes.
Bucky had thrown the last bag down the chute - one that Walker of all people believed you guys should have. His argument for it, “we’re on like the top floor, cleaners ain’t gonna want to come up here.”
It made things more efficient, he had to admit.
“What are you two up to? Ava asked, coming in from her mid morning stretch.
“Cleaning,” Bucky said.
“I can see, and smell, that. Lot of beer.”
“It’s not ours,” Walker sneered, as if expecting the hit from the jab that never came.
She looked to your room, door open still, she then sighed.
“We’ll hide the rest.”
Was it brash? Sure. But, they never did any one thing a half measure.
If hiding it would help, they’d hide it.
Yelena and you had found a bench. Birds chirped above you.
“I’m sorry about the last mission,” you said, “I wasn’t as focused as I should have been.”
Yelena looked to you. Progress, you were opening up.
Still, she pretended to play blind, “we all have our off days.”
You scoffed, looking up at the trees, at how peaceful everything seemed.
You hated the war that raged within you. You hated even more about your old habits —
“Hey,” she said, hand going into yours, “you’re here with me.”
“I know you know,” you said, ashamed, “could tell when you smelt my breath this morning.”
She kept her gaze soft, letting the worry be shown, “I know what it’s like to try drown your demons. It never works.”
Your eyes shimmered with tears, “then…then — why…why does it feel like the only way out?”
“In an odd way, it is a comfort,” she said, “before all of us coming together, I wasn’t lost. I drank myself to sleep every night.”
You squeezed her hand. Worry and solidarity all wrapped into one.
“We’re a mess.”
“We are,” she said, “but a setback doesn’t mean the end.”
“Wait, you’re helping” Bucky said in a sort of disbelief to Alexei helping lock some of the alcohol cabinets.
“While i would never deny a comrade drink,” he admitted, “I would do anything to keep the pain it can bring to a friend.”
You and Yelena had fallen silent, but she could tell the war going on inside of you, "I don't like that I slipped back."
She sighed, "we cannot help it. Somtimes our demons get too loud and we go backwards. Our journeys are never liner."
“We’re meant to be, though. We are meant to be something more.”
“Us as the New Avengers? Maybe in principle. But we are not like those who were…before us…we are something more damaged and who let that be known.”
You didn’t answer, but Yelena could see that the words had impacted you.
She felt her phone go off, it was Ava who had messaged.
She sighed, before showing you the photo of a locked cabinet stuffed with beer.
“Let us go make our friends undo this, yes?”
She could see the guild mix with a sense of warmth at what your friends had done.
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After calming down at Ava’s apparent betrayal, the Thunderbolts sat in the main area. Would you be angry? Would it cause you to hide away more?
The ding of the elevator allowed for them to find out.
Yelena stepped out first, looking at her friends, “I’m giving them space.”
“We sure that’s a good idea?” John asked.
“They’re still hungover, and processing what you’ve done.”
“Say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“No,” she defended, “they’re overwhelmed by that choice being made.”
“Whenever I slipped,” Bob said, “I used to push people away. Guess it’s why it was so easy to become to agree to that…programme.”
“We just wanted to help, little Yelena,” her dad said softly.
“I think we have,” Ava said, “just in an overreaction, some might say.”
They heard footsteps, seeing you in more casual wear.
“I, um….thank you for…for trying. I haven’t really had anyone do that before.”
Bobs words ran true then.
Bucky go up. Approaching you, he put a hand on your shoulder, “no one is gonna leave you.”
“…then why does it feel like you will?”
“Because we are messed up people,” Ava said, “whose minds lie to us. Yours told you that we would leave you for a slip up — that you deserved that. You never did. You never do. You never will.”
“I didn’t mean to hide it.”
“You got creative,” John joked, “big building.”
You snorted.
“Can we ask why you drank?” Alexei asked.
“Nightmares. Old wounds. Fear of what’s coming with everything.”
It felt pathetic to admit, yet another hand was on your shoulder, Ava’s.
You gulped, tears rising.
Then a sob. You let yourself feel.
You didn’t know when the hug had started. You didn’t know how long it had lasted for or what exactly you said in sobs — but you knew one thing:
They didn’t let go.
A few days had gone by. The cabinets were unlocked again.
Bucky went by your room, seeing the door be open. You put a can in the bag. Only one this time.
He caught your eye and nodded — you nodded back, not entirely ashamed.
You weren’t perfect with it. You still which one after all. But it was a hell if a lot last than the last spiral.
Bucky held up a hand, disappearing for a moment before coming back with some water.
You took it, as he took the can from you.
“Thank you,” you said.
“No matter how many downs we have, right?”
You nodded, “no matter how many downs.”
You got that — at least for now. But you repaired, they’d repeat it. As many times as they needed to.
Sequel