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justsomebucky · 7 years

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The Only Exception (Part 7)

Summary: AU. Reader is given the task of running a popular love advice internet show when her coworker is fired. Her cynical attitude toward love makes her offer some harsh advice, and more than a few hearts are caught in the aftermath. Will hers be one of them?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Word Count: 4,190 (sorry)

Warnings: language, mentions of injury, mentions of trauma, some confrontations, Sam being precious, reader self-reflection, mentions of threats, creepy emails

A/N: Guess who’s back…back again…Reader decides to take control of her life and do what she thinks is best. I really liked this part. That’s probably why I went a little crazy.

Part - 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10

You kept your eyes focused on the young woman across from you, though she wouldn’t meet anyone’s eyes.

Today was the first day you were allowed to sit in on a group therapy session, so you started with Dr. Coulson. He was a very serious man, which you learned quickly after making a Dr. Phil joke that didn’t go over so well.

Anyways.

You had just finished your trauma certifications last week, and you decided to start your shadowing sessions with something you weren’t familiar with: work-related injuries and trauma.

Dr. Coulson was employed part-time at the Red Wing community center, using his knowledge as a medical professional to help those with major injuries or extensive medical work cope with the changes to their bodies and minds.

It was an interesting choice, but you realized about five minutes into the session how essential it was to hear from someone who understood the injuries to answer questions honestly, instead of someone who just wanted to make them feel better about them.

The young woman across from you, an Army veteran who was medically discharged, was just one of seven that were circled around you and Dr. Coulson. Each person had a visible wound that contributed to their emotional pain, and you found yourself unable to think of ways to comfort or help them.

Seriously, you were drawing a blank. The empathy was there, but you had no clue how to help.

Thank goodness you were here to learn.

“Mara.”

She looked up and met Dr. Coulson’s eyes at the sound of his voice.

“You can talk about it here, Mara. I’m here to help, and Y/N is here to learn to help. The rest of your session-mates are here for help, just like you. No one is here to judge you.”

Mara’s eyes skimmed the faces around her, finally landing on yours. You kept your face neutral, though you felt so deeply for this woman that you wanted to cry.

But, that would be unprofessional, and you were no longer an overemotional, unprofessional person.

Her eyes flitted back to Coulson’s. “I have pain sometimes,” she admitted. “Where my leg used to be. Isn’t that weird? I’ll wake up in the middle of the night with searing pain in a leg I don’t have anymore.”

Dr. Coulson nodded. “It’s called Phantom Limb Pain, and approximately eighty percent of all amputees experience it.”

“Why?”

“Well…” Coulson shifted a little in his seat, clasping his hands together in front of him. That little motion was like that of a parent talking to a scared child, though it bore no condescension. “Most experts think it’s caused by mixed signals from your brain to your spine, and vice versa. It could be damage to nerve endings nearby, causing neurological misfires. In other words, it’s not ‘all in your head,’ Mara.”

Mara nodded, looking down again.

Your eyes followed her line of sight to her left leg, which was amputated just below the knee. Your heart ached for her, but even more than that, you admired her courage and perseverance.

“What can I do to stop the pains? Can I- will therapy help?”

“I think therapy, along with keeping track of what triggers your pain, could help immensely,” Coulson replied, his voice still gentle. “If you notice patterns, keep track of them. For instance, if you sleep on one side more than the other, and you still have pains at night, then write it down. If cold bothers it, write it down. The more information you can take to your primary care physician, the more they will be able to narrow down why this is happening and help you treat it.”

“Thank you, Dr. Coulson,” she murmured. “That’s all I had.”

“Okay. I think that’s just about all our time for today. Thank you for being here and for sharing. We can all benefit from knowing and caring for each other. I’ll see you next week, same time.”

A chorus of agreement sounded around the room, and you stood and waited to the side while everyone else shuffled out the door.

Dr. Coulson turned to you with a polite, curious smile. “What did you think, Y/N?”

“I think you and everyone at this center do some amazing things,” you answered honestly. “I’m glad to be a part of it, and to try to make a difference in someone’s life.”

“Good.” He nodded. “I don’t expect that you’ll be specializing in injury-related therapy, but I think you have a knack for it, a real empathy that the world is lacking these days.”

“Thank you, Doctor.”

“Please, call me Phil. Just not Dr. Phil.”

You chuckled, turning to follow him out the door into the main hallway. Phil said a hurried goodbye, trying to get back to the hospital for his shift, while you sort of meandered around until your next session.

The next group that you would be in was a session with Sam, and it was going to be more of your kind of expertise. The participants were of victims of trauma that wasn’t caused by work, but was often triggered by it. You hoped to have a session of your own with them someday, because you were good at finding a root cause to reactions and behaviors. At least, you liked to think so.

You waited patiently outside the darkened room, leaning back against the wall. Your mind was racing with all the things you’d heard and learned today.

A familiar voice ended your reverie.

Sam was speaking, but that wasn’t the voice that did it.

You were almost afraid to look, but you did anyways. Bucky Barnes was strolling down the hallway beside Sam. They hadn’t noticed you yet, but to get to the exit, they had to walk past you.

You felt your stomach do a little flip when Bucky’s eyes met yours. He faltered a bit in whatever he was saying to Sam, who naturally picked up on it right away. Damn him for being so observant.

“Y/N,” he called out, walking over to you, with Bucky lagging behind him a little. “All ready for the next group?”

“Waiting patiently,” you replied, forcing a small smile to your face.

“I was just finishing up with Mr. Barnes here. He tells me that he knows you personally?”

Your smile fell. Why would he mention that to Sam? In fact, what was he doing here?

As if Sam knew what you were thinking, he explained himself. “I ask permission from all the session participants before I have someone new sit in for training. Barnes has been coming to this center for years. When I said your name, he mentioned that he knew you, and I thought maybe that was a conflict of interest. I didn’t want him to feel awkward, so I had his session one-on-one today.”

“Ah.” You felt like an ass now. There’d been no reason to jump to conclusions like you did. Bucky had a life, had personal stuff to deal with outside of you.

You had to stop reacting badly to things where he was concerned. It wasn’t like he’d carried out his intentions, and it wasn’t like he hadn’t tried to make amends. Someone like Sam wouldn’t put up with a bad man.

Bucky wasn’t a bad man.

“How are you, Y/N?” he piped up quietly, moving out from behind Sam. His blue eyes didn’t reveal any emotion, though they were a little red-rimmed.

Your heart ached again, remembering that the restaurant burned down recently. He must have been talking about it in his session. “I’m all right. How are you?”

“Fine,” he answered. “I’m sure…you probably saw the news.”

“I did. I am really sorry, Bucky.”

“Let me just interrupt for a second,” Sam interjected. “I have to go see Sharon about something. Please excuse me. Good to see you again, Bucky.”

“You too, Sam. Thanks for accommodating me today.”

Sam nodded, then turned and left the two of you alone.

“I’m really sorry,” you repeated. “I saw you on TV that night. You saved her life.”

“I couldn’t live with myself if I ever hesitated to try to save someone, family or not.” Bucky looked away toward the door, and you knew he was longing to escape this conversation. “Anyways, the chief confirmed that it was a grease fire. It was just an unfortunate accident.”

You shifted on your feet awkwardly. “Do you think the Foundation could help her?”

“No.” He still wouldn’t meet your eyes. “What I mean is, I’ve taken care of it. She’s staying with me while the insurance sorts things out. She might not have a restaurant anymore, but at least she’s got a comfortable apartment.”

“That’s good. I’m glad she has you.” There was a brief pause, but you couldn’t stand silence right now. “Have you been coming here a long time?”

“I have, ever since it opened here in Brooklyn. Partly for how close it was to work, but mostly because they deal with first responders.”

“I work here now.”

“Yeah, Sam told me. Listen, Y/N, before this gets any more awkward, I wanted to apologize again. I haven’t been myself in weeks. Between my ex, my anger, the idiotic plan, the even more idiotic declaration of love…Natasha meant well, but I don’t think I was ready for that either.”

You watched as he ran a hand through his hair, his eyes finally flickering back to yours. So, Natasha had been the one to coax him to call in and say something. That figured.

“I know what you’re thinking, and no, she didn’t tell me to say that. She just told me that a grand expression of my feelings might help. I panicked and blurted that out. I don’t know how to grandly express myself these days without screwing everything up, it seems.”

You brows furrowed a little. “Emotions aren’t things to mess with. I learned that the hard way at work.”

“I know that,” he agreed readily. “I know. I’m not excusing what I did by any means. I learned the hard way, too, through losing you.”

Your stomach did a couple of those crazy flips again. “By the time you called in, I was already on the Embarrassment Train to Unemployment. I said some crazy shit on the show, too, and messed with peoples’ lives. Natasha helped me realize that I wasn’t treating people well, either. We both have some growing up to do.”

“I, um…” He paused again, looking down at his shoes, his face somber. “Do you remember what I told you before? I thought being a firefighter would be a way to cope with my sister’s death, but it turned out to be a trigger, sometimes.”

“That isn’t uncommon,” you offered, trying to sound helpful like Dr. Coulson.

He nodded, but kept his gaze on anything but you. “So anyways, I started therapy at a private practice first, then I switched to Sam’s group. I sort of slacked off for a while, thinking I was better, but lately I’ve realized that I still need to work through some stuff.”

“Therapy is good for everyone, I think.” He was trusting you with this revelation, something that both amazed and encouraged you. Maybe you should have a one-on-one with someone, too, for your own issues.

“It is,” he agreed. “Sam and all the people here have been so incredible, so helpful. I just…I can’t seem to stop adding to my list of problems, though.”

You could relate. “I’m sorry for disturbing your session. I’m shadowing the group leaders for a couple of weeks so that I can learn how things are done around here.”

Bucky looked back at you. “Don’t apologize for that, you didn’t know.”

“No, but…”

His eyes softened, and his body language seemed to relax, too. “But nothing. It’s great that you’re finally able to use your degree for something you always wanted to do. I’m really proud of you, Y/N.”

Well, you weren’t expecting that at all. “Thanks, Bucky.”

“I’m gonna head out. Good luck on the rest of your training here.”

You merely nodded, watching as he turned to leave. You knew he was just doing what you wanted by leaving you alone. A strange anxiety filled you, and you found yourself unable to stop yourself from calling out to him.

“Bucky!”

He paused halfway to the exit, then looked over his shoulder in question.

Shit. You should have thought this through.

You didn’t even know what you wanted to say, and now Bucky was staring at you with those big blue eyes.

You decided to just go for it. “Do you, maybe, want to start over? As friends?” Your heart was racing, and Sam’s advice about chances came back to you as you stared at him, awaiting an answer.

Right now, all you wanted was to make everything right in your life, and you’d already started by quitting your job. Now it was time to make peace with people.

He turned his whole frame to face you this time, a small smile appearing on his handsome face. “I’d like that very much.”

You made sure not to walk past the ruins of the restaurant on your way home this time. Part of Sam’s encouragement was to not let the past have such a tight grip on you, and there was no way you were going to disregard such sound advice.

Sam was so different from May. He was more like a friend and mentor than a boss, because all he wanted to do was help. He genuinely wanted you to succeed in your career. He was your Mr. Miyagi, and you hoped to never let him down as long as you were employed at the Red Wing Foundation.

The sound of your phone ringing made you jump a little, even though you were on a busy Brooklyn street. The name on the caller ID made you smile. “Hello?”

“Y/N! I’m standing outside of your apartment! Where are you?”

“How the hell did you get into my building without me, Natasha?”

“I pressed every single button. Someone buzzed me in. That’s how completely secure this place isn’t, Y/N. Anyways, how far away are you?”

“I thought we agreed to keep our distance because of the gag ord-“

“How far are you?” she interrupted. “I really need to see you!”

You turned the corner and your building came into view. “I’m almost there. Why, Natasha, is something wrong?”

“You could say that. Just get here, okay?”

She ended the call, and you shoved your phone back into your bag with a frown. Whatever it was, it couldn’t be good.

Once you made it to your floor, you spotted Natasha sitting against your door, her arms wrapped around her knees as she hugged them to her body. She looked really upset.

The second she saw you, she stood up and motioned at the door. “Turns out, I can’t pick locks.”

“Good,” you scoffed in a joking tone. “Can’t have you inviting yourself over all the time. What if I have a gentleman caller?” You opened the door and let her move inside first, before turning to lock it behind you.

Nat’s eyes widened as she turned back to you. “Have you been dating?”

“On and off. I haven’t really hit it off with anyone.”

This was sort of true. You’d had one date since the blowup with Bucky, with a guy you met on a dating site. He was polite, but boring as hell, and you hadn’t accepted his offer for a second date. You just couldn’t see a future with him. Old habits die hard, you supposed.

But Natasha didn’t need to know that. “Make yourself comfortable. Did you eat yet?” You wandered into the kitchen to retrieve a glass of water.

“I’m not even remotely hungry. I came here to talk to you about work.”

Suddenly wine sounded more appealing than water. “Red or white?”

“Red,” she replied without missing a beat. “I know we said we couldn’t talk about it, but Y/N, I have to tell someone.”

“Go ahead. What’s another legal issue?” you joked, pouring the red wine carefully into two glasses, then taking one of them over to Nat.

She accepted it gratefully, taking a small sip. “I don’t have to go into the logistics of the case. This is all new, all stuff that happened in the last two days.”

“Go on.” You walked back over to grab your own glass and the bottle, then brought them both to the coffee table, sitting beside her and giving her your full attention. “What’s been happening?”

“May hasn’t found anyone she likes for your replacement yet,” she informed you. “No one has the background, though she’s certainly made her rounds to try to make someone stick.”

“No way! Who has she forced into filming so far?”

“Me, Maria, Lillian from accounting…she even tried to get Scott to do it, citing his divorce as relatable.”

“Poor Scott.” You shook your head in disbelief. May was bananas. “Do you have to do it again?”

“That’s the worst part. Out of all of us, she said I gave the best advice. She wants to force me into the role next.”

“But with the creepy emailer still on the loose, what then?”

“That’s what I came to talk to you about. I haven’t told May or Scott or the legal department yet, but I’ve already gotten two email threats.”

You felt your eyes bug out. “What did they say?”

Nat made a face at you. “Do you really want to know?”

“Yes.”

“The first one said - and this is just me paraphrasing here, because I don’t speak crazy – ‘You’re even less qualified than the last bitch, you should quit now.’”

“Oh my god, Natasha, you have to tell someone!” You shook your head. “You can’t just let this keep happening!”

Her hands wrung together tightly as she stared at you. “The second one said, ‘Once I’m done with the Love Therapist, you’re next.”

You felt a real fear again. This was a direct threat against you; it had been so long since the crazy stalker had mentioned you, that you thought you were in the clear. “Whoever is doing this should have been happy I quit, and leave me be.”

“Apparently they aren’t satisfied. It probably doesn’t help that May keeps bringing you up in comparison.”

“Oh god,” you breathed out, a realization hitting you. “It’s got to be someone who works at September Media. It has to be!”

“What?” She sat up, eyes wide. “You think?”

“What else makes sense? The security clearance to get past firewalls, emailing us personally, inside information like knowing about what happened to Leah? It has to be someone on the inside, Nat.”

She nodded slowly. “You’re right, that makes sense. Who the hell would be so involved with something as stupid as a love advice YouTube show that they’d stoop to this level, though? Who at work would be this crazy?”

You leaned back against the couch cushion, trying to go through the directory in your mind. “I don’t think it’s Scott. And I don’t think it’s May. She’s far too involved in the money end.”

“Maybe she’s doing it to stir up controversy for viewership and media interest?”

“She’s got so much to lose, though.”

“Hmm…I think we should keep her on the list of suspects.”

You nodded. “She is sort of delaying the investigation, isn’t she?”

“That could be because she doesn’t want the show to shut down or get bad press.”

“All press is good press to her, though. Ugh! Who else?”

“Leah?”

“Maybe.” You had to admit, that was your first thought when this all started. “Or maybe one of her many contacts, those clients of Tony Stark’s that were trying to wine and dine with her?”

“I can find out who they were,” she offered with confidence. “No problem. One of them already tried to hit me up for some fun.”

“I didn’t get anyone asking me out. Not fair!”

“Did you really want one of those greasy old dudes to hit on you and use you like Leah? Come on.”

“No, definitely not.” You shuddered at the thought. “Anyone else?”

Natasha tapped her chin gently. “What about a viewer? Do you think one of your pieces of advice led to someone wanting to hurt you? Besides emotionally, I mean.”

Your mind went to Bucky, and his original plan to break your heart. It felt like such a long time ago, now that so many things had happened. “I wouldn’t put it past someone, but to actually keep it up this long shows that this person is a bit more damaged than anything we’ve seen before.”

“So are you over that, then?” Leave it to Natasha to read between the lines.

You thought about it for a moment. “Not exactly. It was a bad thing to do. But he’s working on it, you know? He’s trying to be a better, less emotionally reactive person. He’s been going to therapy.”

“How do you know?”

“Long story. Anyways, I decided to take the lead on things. I’m in control of what happens to me now, and I decided we should try to start over as friends.”

“You don’t have to start over with him at all, Y/N. You don’t owe him anything. Not after everything that happened.”

“I wanted to. I think…I think he’s a good person, Natasha. Love, or someone’s idea or impression of love, especially when they’ve been through so much, can cause someone to do some stupid things. It’s certainly not an excuse, but it is an explanation.”

“Ah yes, doing stupid things for love. I can relate.” She let out a big sigh. “Like me fighting with my best friend when she needed me most, just because I wanted to keep seeing a hot fireman?”

You nudged her arm with yours. “Exactly. Or what about me? I let my terrible luck with romance get in the way, and tried to derail the happiness of complete strangers.”

Natasha didn’t say anything, but she watched you carefully, waiting for you to arrive to your conclusion.

You shrugged, unsure of what else to say on the matter. “He lost his sister, then his fiancée. He almost lost his surrogate mother in a fire recently. I could see why he would become desperate to keep people.”

She nodded, still not saying a word.

“But, he backed off when I asked him to,” you continued, reasoning it out more for yourself than for her. “The fact that he is working through it in a healthy way this time shows he’s making progress. I don’t know…I believe what he told me, and I give him credit for telling me the truth before my feelings got wrapped up with him.”

“Well, you should know better than anyone since you’re a therapist. You’ve tried to analyze me many times.”

“And failed,” you added jokingly.

“Seriously, though, Y/N. That’s great to hear. Even if you can’t be more than friends, at least there’s nothing toxic hanging between you two anymore.”

“Exactly. I don’t need that burden any more than the next person.”

Natasha stretched out her limbs. “What were we talking about again?”

“We were coming up with possible suspects.”

“Well, speculating all night won’t get us any closer to the truth, I’m afraid. We’re going to have to dig a little deeper. What do you say we have an investigation of our own?”

“How?” You gave her a knowing look. “You’re going to go snooping, aren’t you?”

“Maaaaybe. Meanwhile, I think you should compile our suspects and motivations lists. We can take it to the legal department once we have a solid lead.”

“I will try. If you want something done right, you gotta do it yourself, right?”

‘Right. Can’t wait for May to come around.” Natasha stood up, draining the little bit of wine left in her glass. “I’ll call you tomorrow with some details. Maybe I can get the emails on a flash drive so we can have someone else review them.”

You followed her to the door, opening it then leaning on it. “If you see anything even remotely suspicious, you call for help, okay? And I don’t mean Steve, or Scott, or me. I mean the police.”

“You, too. I’m actually going to meet Steve at the firehouse tonight, so I should be good. Are you going to be okay?”

You shrugged. “I might have a little trouble sleeping, but other than that I’ll be fine.”

Natasha pulled you in for another hug, then gave you a smile before she turned and walked down the hall.

You shut the door, locking it and putting the chain across for good measure. Then you went around to every window, making sure they were shut and locked, with the blinds closed.

That unwelcome feeling of vulnerability returned as you climbed into bed and pulled the covers up. You decided to leave the light on while you slept, just in case.

It was going to be a long night.

Part - 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10

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