Chapter Text
Every day it was the same old thing, like clockwork.
Tale would come in, sitting in her usual green seat outside the office. Second closest to the exit. Not the closest because then Raynor would know that something was up, even though she was supposed to be getting better. Tale was supposed to be getting better. Safer to be around. She had to, or else she would be sent back to prison.
The other thing like clockwork was the man that would come out right before she had to go in. He was always grumpy, wearing long sleeves and dressing slightly old. He didn’t have a modern phone, instead having a flip phone. His face was slightly familiar, but Tale couldn’t place exactly where she knew it from. She didn’t watch the news—she was too scared to—so he could’ve been from there.
So, every day at therapy went like clockwork. Tale thought a normal person wouldn’t like it; hell, she was even straight up told that she shouldn’t like it. But she did, and she didn’t care that it was boring for others. Like this she knew exactly what would happen, when it would happen.
But this time Dr. Raynor’s waiting room did not go like clockwork.
The first thing that happened was that the chairs had been moved. The chair she always sat on had a little white streak on the right armrest, and this new chair didn’t. The chair she always sat on was instead moved as far away from the wall as possible because of course that would happen to her of all people.
Now came the decision: should Tale sit in the chair that she always sits in, or the location she always sat in? She stood in the doorway, trying to decide.
After two minutes of careful deliberation she decided she would do something else. Creeping towards her chair with soft, silent footsteps, she lifted it above her head, walking back to her place. Switching the chairs, she sat down in her place, in her chair. Already too much different, but she worked it out. Tale always did.
The second thing that happened was that the man that seemed slightly familiar didn’t come out. Instead, it was Dr. Raynor, her lips set in a thin, grim line and hazel eyes on Tale’s brown doe eyes. Maybe the other man wasn’t here today, sick or something. It happened sometimes. It shook off the pattern but he was always back. Likely because his therapy was court mandated like hers.
Raynor nodded for her to come in. She sat up from her chair, covering her front pocket with a hand, where her phone was. It was stupid, but no one would steal it like that.
“Hi,” Tale said, the word a soft whisper. If she spoke any louder she might let the anger that was always boiling up inside her out. So she spoke in a whisper, to not aggravate herself, to not aggravate anyone, just in case. Tale did everything just in case.
“Good morning. Come sit next to Bucky on the couch. No arguing, sit next to the man.”
Bucky. So that was his name. Still didn't ring any bells in her really hollow head.
The man that was supposed to come out much earlier was called Bucky.. The man who was always right before her sessions was sitting in the room and she was supposed to sit next to him. This is not what she wanted. No, not what she wanted at all.
She sat next to him, on the left side. Usually she sat on the right side of the green couch. She liked her right side better. Easier to rest her head on her hand then if she was on the left.
Bucky—the name sparked nothing in her brain—gave her a little smile, one that was just a bit too straight and a bit too wooden. Like a new artist who finally figured out how to draw a human face with no emotions, and was trying to find out how to give emotion when they weren’t experienced enough for it.
Tale didn’t bother to give a smile back. She knew it would look more wooden and more fake than even his smile. Instead she lifted her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around her like a little caterpillar in a cocoon. Maybe one day she would turn from the ugly caterpillar into a beautiful butterfly, who knows. Only if she was brave enough to spread her wings.
Bucky looked at her fingers as Raynor walked back in. She knew what he was looking at, or rather what he wasn’t looking at. Her left hand, missing the entire ring finger and the first two knuckles of her middle finger. Just enough left to flip someone off, thankfully.
Tale glared back at him. It was rude to look at someone like that.
“Now, I’m going to try something new today,” Raynor said, sitting on her chair. Two notebooks instead of one were on her lap, and that annoying pen. “You both have troubles. Serious troubles. For people who built their entire lives on lies you can’t even manage to convince me you didn’t even have one nightmare. I know this is court-mandated, boring, forced, etc, but it is my job to make you two better and you are not accomplishing that.
“I expect you two to talk. Together. About anything. No silence. Tale you don’t like silence anyway, and since I'm not going to fill it it’s either you or Bucky,” Raynor continued. Tale didn’t like how she called her out on that but it was true. Silence was another thing she could not stand. Even now she was listening to her lengthy playlist, one earbud in her left ear.
Tale tilted her head, just a little bit, so Raynor wouldn’t see the earbud. Her plan wouldn’t work if the—
“Tale. Earbud. Now.” Raynor held out her hand, lifting her eyebrows at Tale expectedly.
“I don't have any,” Tale lied. Raynor wouldn’t dare to—
“Like I said. Horrible liar. Give me the earbud, now.”
She shook her head, not hiding the fact that she was listening to music anymore. So in response Raynor pulled out that blasted pen and opened that blasted notebook.
“You know what happens,” Raynor said, now directing her gaze to the paper as her pen was poised perfectly, the tip just a hair’s breadth away.
“Great, just do it,” Bucky sighed just as Tale grumbled,
“Not the notebook.” She paused the music and ripped the earbud out of her ear, throwing it at Raynor’s face.
“Tale, watch your anger,” she scolded, catching the little thing right before it hit her face. “What do you say to apologize?”
“I am very sorry,” Tale sighed, rolling her eyes as she repeated the thing she was forced to memorize, “and it will not happen again. I let my emotions get the better of me, and I am currently working on controlling them. Fuck you anyway.”
Dr. Raynor ignored the comment at the end, nodding in approval. Meanwhile, Bucky, still sitting on the other side of the couch, let out a little under-the-breath chuckle.
“What's got you laughing?” Tale snapped. He better not be laughing at her.
“Just got something like that for me too. ‘My names is James Buchanan Barnes and you’re part of my efforts to make amends…’” He rolled his eyes at the end as he trailed off.
“Great, you two found a bonding point already. Go on, talk. Tale, no humming. I am setting a timer for an hour. Get to talking. I’m staying here.” Raynor pulled out her phone, going to the clock app and setting the timer. She put the phone on her lap and watched them.
Tale stared at Bucky. Bucky stared at Tale. She slid her foot down and tapped it on the floor so it wasn’t silent.
“Bucky, Tale, this is not a staring contest. Save that for carnival games or whatever. Get to talking or neither of you are leaving this room.” Raynor glared at the two of them, and Tale thought, it would be nice for it to become a three-way staring contest. She looked at Bucky’s deep ocean blue eyes, then at Raynor’s hazel ones. Of course Tale was the only one to have shit-brown eyes in this room.
Actually, Tale was the most different one in this entire room.
She has brown skin, what some people would describe as “honey coloured”, whatever that meant. She hated how darker skinned people were described with food or all things, but to call someone pale “white-bread coloured” was frowned upon. Stupid stereotypes.
Her hair, which she had finally figured out how to tame, was a nice golden colour, a tint of red in the sunlight. Curly on the underside, but only wavy outside. A half-up, half-down hairstyle fit her, made her feel pretty, so that was how she kept it like every morning, for five months already. Everything about her was always constant, because that was something she could control all the time.
Same earrings in her ears ever since she had gotten them pierced, that she only took out to clean. Same hairstyle for almost half a year now. Same schedule for washing hair, for washing clothes, for washing dishes, for going to work. She trimmed her side bangs daily, to keep them at the same length. Cut off the rest of her hair monthly. Everything she did was on a schedule, and if that schedule went off something was wrong.
The silence went on for two more minutes as Tale alternated looking at Bucky and Raynor, Bucky looked between her and Raynor, and Raynor looked at them both. The therapist sighed, then brought out two pens, clicking them both at the same time and opening both their notebooks.
“I’m ambidextrous, you know,” Raynor said, her voice matter-of-fact. “So I can write in both your notebooks at the same time. If you two want to talk but just can’t, then I have some pointers.”
“Anything if there’s no notebook,” Bucky sighed, glaring at the books like they had just let out a string of curses in every language known to man at him.
“Okay, that’s great. I can see that you two really don’t know how to start a conversation because you have like what, ten contacts in your phones combined? You both live extremely pathetic lives and I have never once heard you mention that you’ve made a new friend.”
“Stop bashing us, doc. Not everyone has social skills,” Tale retorted, knowing full well that she had excellent social skills that she would never reveal to Raynor and she would never ever use unless she was desperate. If Tale wanted she could maybe even become best buddies with Raynor, who was really the only person she talked to regularly. And that was only if she wanted to. Tale definitely did not want to be best buddies with Raynor.
“Yeah, that’s the problem,” Raynor replied, bashing her back. They always had fights like this, and Tale never minded. It helped her bring out her anger in more efficient ways than just punching the drywall in her apartment. “You two have absolutely no skills. That’s half of why this companion thing is happening with you two.”
“What companion thing?” Bucky asked, glaring at Raynor like Tale was.
“It’s a new program,” Raynor explained.a new program that she had signed up two completely unwilling participants for. “I pair up my clients that are the most alike and they talk. Sometimes it’s better to talk with people who have similar trauma to you. That’s what you two are supposed to be doing, but for some reason you aren’t. Before you complain, Tale, I am forcing you to do this and I don’t care if it’s unfair or not because you do what I say. You both know what awaits you if you don’t listen.”
Yes, Tale did know what awaited her if Raynor wasn’t satisfied. The only reason Tale was out now was because some men took pity on her and considered how she had been manipulated. The court case had been hard, but she had come out pardoned.
“So, what will happen to you if you don’t listen to Dr. Raynor?” Tale asked, her snark unhidden in her speech.
“The Raft, probably,” Bucky replied, like it was some common state prison you would get sent to for speeding. Yeah, no. Only the worst criminals get sent there. You had to have a minimum kill count of twenty-five, at least.
“Oh, hey. Me too!’ She exclaimed happily. Like she was excited to be on that fucking water-prison-boat thingy again.
“How about…you two tell each other why you would each be sent to the Raft?” Raynor suggested. For some reason she was really intent on them talking.
“Because I’m a criminal,” Tale said. Again, happily. Because if you acted like you’re happy, you might just trick yourself into thinking you were.
“Personally, doc, I don’t think that I’m comfortable with sharing.” Great, Tale had corrupted him. Snuck her snarkiness into Bucky like a well-trained thief in the dead of night. Doubt Raynor would like that. Fun.
“You will share or you both can share a wall in the Raft.”
“That was good, Raynor. Real good.” Tale gave her a thumbs up and her iconic goofy smile. At least she thought it was iconic. Others didn't really think so.
“Fine, then, I’ll start,” Bucky relented, begrudgingly. “I was a brainwashed assassin for seventy years. I killed a buncha people and worked for Hydra. Got pardoned but if I mess up I’m shipped straight towards the Raft.”
“Fine, I’ll go next,” Tale said, slightly mocking him even though she didn’t want to come off as rude. “I was a manipulated sniper for my whole life. I killed a buncha people but I didn’t work for H— wait, what’d you say? Hydra?”
“Next time, Tale, listen instead of starting to hate on whatever they said,” Raynor scolded. There was always a lot of scolding going on in their sessions.
“Fine. I am very sorry and it will not happen again. I let my emotions get the better of me, and I am currently working on controlling them." After saying her scripted response she started rapid fire questioning him. "What did you say about Hydra and how are you related to them? Do you believe in their ideals? If so fuck you”
“No, I'm not Hydra anymore. But I was the Winter Soldier…”
“I don’t know who that is,” Tale said honestly, cutting him off. She cut off people a lot, especially when she already had an answer in her mind. Tale was sure that she didn't know who he was. She never watched the news. A beat of silence, then…
Goddamn. That's why he looked so familiar. How can I be so fucking stupid?
“Wait, I do.”
“Well, yeah you probably know of me. I mean… I'm pretty infamous.” Bucky cracked his knuckles in a non-threatening manner. More like a fidget than to intimidate someone.
“First of all you're famous, not infamous. And no, I knew him. Or, well, you. Like personally.”