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Finding Closure (Part 3)

Summary: AU. Reader left behind a hometown full of misery to make a new home in Brooklyn. A death in the family forces her to briefly return to the place that has haunted her dreams and memories for three years. Will she finally be able to move on, or will a figure from the past change everything?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Word Count: 3,809 (Jean-Ralphio voice: “I’m the wooooorst!”)

Warnings: angst, language, car trouble, mentions of alcoholism, mentions of bad home life, revisiting childhood home, tw: seizures (mention), medical emergency (mention)

Part: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6

A/N: This is the next part of my submission for the talented and wonderful @tatortot2701 ‘s AU writing challenge. I took a fluffy prompt and darkened it. Tags are closed.

My prompt was 28 .“____ is not a real word.” “Yes it is!”

Bucky can’t help himself, can he? And how cool is Sam?

The next morning, you left Darcy at the hotel to sleep off the previous night’s fun. There was no way she was going to be of any use to you today anyways, not with how much alcohol she had consumed.

This was something you felt you should do alone, at least this first visit.

The drive to your house was short and not-so-sweet. You gripped the steering wheel tightly in a vain attempt to calm down, silently willing yourself to get out of the car. From where you sat, you could see the end of the walk and the small (but somehow still wildly out of control) hedges that lined the yard.

Were you ready for this?

Did you even have a choice, really?

The inconvenient answer to both of those questions was absolutely not.

It wasn’t like you had anyone else to throw this task to. You didn’t have any siblings, and your extended family would never bother to help you. No, you were made to suffer through this one final thing, a nice little parting gift from a man who always did his best to make sure you were miserable.

Sam was already there, naturally. He was leaning up against his beautiful and impractical sports car parked in the driveway. There were sunglasses on his face even though the late spring sky was cloud-covered once again. His bomber jacket was the only thing that made sense on this chilly morning.

Your eyes slid to the clock on the dash. If you sat here any longer, Sam was going to charge you extra. You really liked him but you didn’t exactly want to finance his next summer vacation.

Reluctantly, you got out of the car, taking a few deep breaths as you shut the door.

“Well, well, well,” he said, straightening at the sight of you as you made your way up the crumbling walk. You saw a bottle of champagne in one hand and his briefcase in the other. “Look who finally decided to show. I was just about to round up your bill to another half hour.”

“Geez, Sam, it’s really good to see you, too,” you deadpanned, offering him a small smile. “How’s the missus? How’s Riley doing in school?”

“Charlie’s good, real good. She just finished up her residency at Children’s.”

“Leave it to you to find someone just as brainy and dedicated as you are.”

Sam chuckled. “Riley, well, he’s growing so fast, learning a lot…he’s more interested in sports, can you believe it?”

“Maybe you’ll raise a billionaire athlete?”

“Maybe. So anyway, are you ready for the good news or the bad news first?”

You smacked your forehead lightly. “Why is it that you can’t ever trust a lawyer?”

“Hilarious. You come up with that just now, or…?”

“Bad news first, please, I’m a realist.”

“Or a sadist.” Sam motioned for you to follow as he turned and walked closer to the house.

This moment was where someone with a normal reaction to their childhood home would have happily followed. Instead, you found your feet planted on that crumbling walk, your eyes shifting nervously to the house for the first time.

It was still as depressing as you remembered. The paint was all but peeled from the sides, and the roof over the back porch was caving in a little. Some shingles were missing in places on the roof, and a broken window had cardboard covering it.

Yeah, you definitely didn’t miss this place.

“Come on, Y/N, we have work to do,” Sam pressed.

You fumbled with the keys for a second (those damn shaking hands again), and when you finally got the door opened, you pushed your way inside. Everything was just as you’d left it the day you had to help grab some of your father’s things, after the seizures started.

That had truly been the day from hell.

It started off like any other lonely and miserable post-Bucky breakup day. It hadn’t even been a week after you graduated that you came home from the store to find your father on the floor having an seizing episode. EMTs stabilized him and took him via ambulance to the hospital, while you stayed back to grab some clothes and personal hygiene supplies.

The doctors told you his drinking was the problem, then they really laid it on you: he no longer had full brain functionality.

You had to put your dad in a personal care home at the expense of the state when he could no longer care for himself and needed frequent medical attention.

Since personal care homes were ridiculously expensive, and your father didn’t have a penny to his name, you signed forms stating that in the highly likely event that he passed away the estate would be sold off immediately. This was so the state could recoup some of its losses.

Not that you wanted to keep it. No freaking way.

Sam set the champagne and his briefcase down on the kitchen table and opened it, pulling out a large stack of documents. “I took care of the sale for you. The contractors who bought it want to flip the house for resale, and I think they offered a fair price, for what it’s worth. Your realtor had a hard time finding someone to make an offer as-is.”

“Thank you,” you said, nodding as you shuffled through each page to find the little stickers so you could sign everything away. “That all sounds okay. So what’s the bad part?”

He handed you a pen and you signed while he kept talking.

“The bad part is they only agreed to the fair price if you got all this shit out of here by the end of the week.”

Your pen nearly scraped a hole in the paper as you glanced up at him in shock. “Are you kidding me? I’m not here that long, Sam, what am I gonna do?”

“I suggest you find a way to be here, Y/N. I can help arrange for the city mission folks to bring their van out. They can take a lot away for donations and you can claim it on your taxes.”

“Great,” you muttered, going back to signing your childhood home away. “What’s the good news, then?”

“I actually ended up giving the good news first.”

“Great.”

It took a couple minutes, but once you’d signed everything, Sam shoved the documents back in his briefcase and gave you a small smile, pushing the bottle in your direction.

“This is for you. I know you don’t like to drink much, given the whole…anyway, Charlie wanted me to give it anyways. She said, ‘That girl deserves some expensive bubbly.’”

The corner of your mouth lifted as you imagined her bossing Sam around. “Tell her I said thank you.”

He put a hand on your shoulder. “It’ll be okay. It’s almost over.”

“I know. I’m just really tired, Sam. This is the end of a long and painful experience that’s lasted, ya know…my whole life.”

“You’re almost free.” Sam gave you a tight hug. “By the way, I heard your reappearance caused a scene at Steve’s place last night.” He pulled back to look at you while trying to keep a straight face.

“Yeah, I forgot to thank you for not telling me,” you retorted. “I love walking into the only restaurant worth anything in town to find my entire high school there.”

‘Why would I ever miss out on a chance like that? The mental image alone got me through all my meetings over your house!” He laughed, then turned to leave with his suitcase in hand. “Don’t be a stranger. Oh, and don’t forget to cut my check.”

“Thanks for all your help.”

“Anytime.” With a final salute, Sam walked out of the house.

You were left alone once again to clean up the mess your father made. With another big sigh, you stuck the champagne bottle in the fridge and got to work.

It took two hours of non-stop back-aching work, but the kitchen was finally sorted. Everything salvageable, including the appliances, would be going as donations. The remainder would be trashed.

Now you only had the rest of the house to clean. No big deal.

Your phone buzzed three times in your pocket, alerting you to incoming texts, all of which were from Darcy. She’d finally woken up about an hour ago, texting to ask where you were.

You explained your dilemma, and she quickly fixed all the travel and accommodation changes so that you could stick around and finish what you started with the house.

It didn’t surprise you that Darcy had agreed to the travel changes; this was like a safari to her, only instead of watching lions hunt in the grasslands, she was watching rednecks smash beer cans on their foreheads.

She would never have to know what it was like to live here.

Lucky her, though. She really was an amazing person, and you would have to pay her back somehow.

The living room was an even bigger mess. That room was where your dad spent most of his time either drunk or drunkenly passed out in front of the TV.

You moved around quickly, stopping only to move a picture of your parents on their wedding day out of the way. You’d be keeping that one, even if it hurt to see them like that, full of love and hope. It was the only picture your father ever kept around him, since hers was the only face he wanted to remember.

The hallways and the dining area were cleaned in no time, and since you were ahead of schedule, you decided to finally take a break. You wandered up the creaky staircase and down the hall until you reached your old room.

Okay, no lie, you were a little terrified to go in. You weren’t sure what you’d find. Would there be a giant spider? Maybe lots of small ones, or even a bat?

You braced yourself as you turned the knob slowly and pushed the door open, ducking back away from the door just in case anything flew out at you.

All seemed quiet, so you reached inside and flipped the light on, peering slowly around the door frame.

You were completely shocked at what you saw.

The last time you had been in here was the night after you moved your father into the home. You ransacked the place, trying to grab anything important as you packed a bag for New York City, fully intent on never returning. There had been clothes strewn everywhere, books on the floor…

Now the room was spotless. It looked like someone had come into the room and tidied up, putting everything back just how you had it before.

Your eyes filled with tears. There was only one person who would have done this, and it sure as hell wasn’t your father.

Bucky had come looking for you.

That was the only explanation. He had a spare key to the house, something you’d given him the minute things got serious just in case of emergencies. You never asked for it back because, well…you hadn’t seen him again after your breakup.

Even still, it had been ages since someone was in this room. You moved inside, letting your hand glide over the painted walls and dusty furniture. A box on the dresser caught your eye.

It was your own little version of the cliché memory boxes all the girls in your grade had made in high school to store mementos of their relationships. He must have discovered it weeks, maybe months after you left, and placed it there for safe keeping.

You knew it was ridiculous to be embarrassed about it now, but you felt your face grow hot at the thought of him seeing all these cheesy little mementos. You walked over to it, letting your eyes wander over some of the familiar items. There was the first CD mix he ever made you, and a couple of movie ticket stubs. One of the t-shirts you stole from him was tucked in a corner of the box.

Then there were the many, many photos.

You liked the convenience of taking pictures on your phone, but he always preferred to have hard copies made. There were stacks and stacks that you never had time to put into an album. You reached for one, gently blowing the dust off of it as you turned it over.

Your heart sank at the sight. It was a picture of you and Bucky, taken by Steve as the three of you sat on the front steps of the library. Bucky was sitting on the step above you, his arms wrapped around you as you leaned back into his chest. He was kissing your cheek while you grinned at the camera.

It was definitely one of your favorites. The two of you looked so incredibly happy.

If only you could warn the version of you in that picture about what was going to happen.

You carefully set the picture back on top of the stack, not yet ready to look through them. This box would be one you took back to Brooklyn with you, though, you were sure of that.

Just as you were about to turn away and get back to cleaning and sorting, your eyes landed on a small envelope that had been set out on the dresser next to the box.

You distinctly remember ripping it from your pocket and tossing it across the room the day you and Bucky broke up, though you were pretty sure you missed the garbage can.

He must have noticed that, too. You wondered if he got angry, knowing you never read it.

Should you even bother to read it now?

What good would it do?

In the end, you left it on the dresser. Tomorrow was another day.

Darcy started texting you again to grab some lunch, but you asked her to order room service this time around. If you stopped your progress now, you weren’t sure you’d meet that deadline the contractors had set.

Even with the extension, you still couldn’t really slow down. There was just so much to sort through, so many things your father never bothered to take care of. You didn’t even stop to eat, only pausing for water breaks.

Just like he promised, Sam got the city mission donation van to stop by and start taking the appliances. After a few more hours the lower level of the house was finally cleaned out.

The sun was starting to go down and you didn’t want to be there anymore, so you called it a night.You had accomplished a lot more than you expected, giving a nod of approval to the front door after locking it.

As you pulled the rental car from the curb, you saw the stupid check engine light come on.

“No,” you pleaded with the car. “Please no.”

The only garage in town was Bucky’s, but you didn’t want to go there. You really, really didn’t want to go there.

The car began to sputter with each acceleration, and you knew you had to decide before you ended up stuck in this neighborhood waiting on Triple A for another two hours.

Maybe he wouldn’t even be there. Maybe you could get your car in and out without having to deal with the rental place in the morning.

You didn’t have time for all this car nonsense when there was the entire top floor of the house left to clean.

The garage was your only hope. You knew the way by heart. Bucky used to invite you over while he was on the clock, then ignore his work to make out with you instead. His uncle used to give him hell for it, but after Bucky told him about your dad, he didn’t mind your presence so much.

There were still employees working on cars even though it was late, so you figured it would be safe to at least pull into a spot and go inside to ask someone if they could have a look.

You were just a little more than nervous as you pushed the glass door open and went inside. A little chime sounded, and a short bald guy with glasses came walking out. His name tag read ‘Jasper.’

“Hi there, how can I help you?”

“Hello!” You turned and pointed at the little rental. “My rental car’s check engine light is on, and it’s hesitating a lot when I try to drive. I know basically nothing about cars, so I’m not sure if that’s really bad or not. Can someone here take a look at it for me?”

He made an apologetic face. “I’m sorry, we’re about to close, and the bays are filled. Can you bring it by tomorrow? We open at eight.”

“Can you please at least tell me if a check engine light is safe to drive with?” you asked, trying to remain polite. You didn’t mean to be cranky, but you’d had a bad day, too. All he had to do was answer whether you were going to breakdown halfway to the hotel or not.

Jasper shook his head again. Before he could get his next sentence out, a figure came out from the back room.

“What’s going on here?” Bucky Barnes asked, glancing between you and his employee.

“I was just telling the customer that we’re about to close, and-“

“And you figured you’d turn her away just because you didn’t feel like dealing with it tonight, right?” Bucky stood a little taller, his expression serious. “What if her car stalled someplace in the middle of nowhere and she didn’t have cell phone service?”

“I- it’s our business hours, Mr. Barnes, I-” Jasper sputtered. Poor Jasper was glowering at you now, but there was no way he could have known your history with Bucky.

“Go home, then, Jasper, if you don’t feel like doing anymore work.” Bucky turned away from him and toward you. “Is the car acting funny?”

You nodded. “It’s hesitating…kind of sputtering when I press the gas pedal.”

Bucky nodded, wiping a hand down his face before holding his other hand out to you. “Keys?”

You were a little confused now, too. Didn’t he try to leave Steve’s restaurant at the sight of you yesterday? Why was he so willing to help you now?

“You don’t have to, Bucky, I can come back tomorrow.”

His blue eyes stared you down with determination, and he wiggled his fingers again, so you dropped the keys into his open palm. Bucky pushed past you to go get the car.

You shrugged at Jasper, who was now giving you a curious look, and turned to take a seat in the lobby.

After Jasper and the rest of his crew were long gone, Bucky came wandering back in from inspecting your car.

You sat up a little, unable to stop yourself from appreciating the fact that he’d ditched his business casual button down in favor of the white tank top beneath, now covered in sweat and grime. Bucky’s long hair was pulled back in a bun, leaving his muscular shoulders exposed. He’d obviously maintained some kind of workout regimen, because beefy arms like that didn’t happen overnight. He was still really, really hot.

Bucky’s entire body was a work of art.

Well, that was unfortunate.

Your eyes flickered up to his as you squirmed in your chair, and your face grew hot almost immediately. He definitely caught you checking him out just then.

“So what’s the verdict?”

Bucky had the audacity to look a little amused. “The gas cap wasn’t on tight enough. Whoever got the gas must have not only gotten the cheapest kind possible, because it was bad, but then they didn’t put the damn cap back on.”

You felt super idiotic now. “The rental car gave it to us like this. We- we didn’t have time to get gas yesterday.”

“It happens. Water or dirt can get into gas, and that messes with the engine. Anyway, I’m draining the tank now. Once I replace the gas it should work fine.”

“Thank you,” you said softly. “I just- you know I don’t know a thing about it. I worry.”

“I know,” he agreed, the corner of his mouth lifting a little.

Neither of you said anything for a moment, then you both spoke up at once.

“Let me buy you dinner, Buck, it’s the least I can do since you-“

“Anyways, I guess I should go back in, get this fixed up for you so you don’t have to wait-“

You both laughed uncomfortably.

“Sorry, you first.”

You cleared your throat. “I was just saying you should let me buy you dinner, Buck...for being so nice to me tonight.”

Bucky shook his head, wiping his palms on his jeans. “It’s no problem. I wouldn’t ever turn someone away like that idiot was about to.”

Ah, he would have done this for anyone. That made more sense. Plus, he couldn’t even find it in himself to accept free dinner from you.

You knew your disappointment was showing on your face, but you didn’t care. He was being unexpectedly kind, and you hated to not repay a favor. You also hated leaving here without accomplishing anything.

“Well, maybe we could order pizza or something,” he relented gruffly. “Nothing fancy. I can’t really run to a shower.”

Pizza? You could absolutely go for some pizza right now.

“Okay,” you agreed, trying to seem unaffected.

He gave you a single nod, then turned and shuffled back through the Employees Only door to the rental car.

You pulled your phone out to type a quick message to Darcy, canceling dinner plans, then pulled up google to try to figure out if the pizza place Bucky used to love was still in business.

As you typed, your hands were shaking a little. You knew you were anything but unaffected when it came to him.

If you were honest with yourself, you were glad to have the excuse to come here tonight. You felt bad for ditching Darcy again, but this was a one-time opportunity.

You were glad that crappy car was sputtering, because you wanted to hear Bucky’s side of the story. You wanted to be in the same room as him and not feel angry and hurt. You wanted another chance for him to turn those blue eyes in your direction without the same anger they held yesterday.

Steve had been right; you shouldn’t get the details from a third party, you had to go to the source.

Tonight you’d finally get the closure you’d been longing for since the night you and Bucky Barnes broke each other’s hearts.

Part: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6

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