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Bob had good days, and he had bad days.
Since he had met his new friends, his new family, he had a lot more good days. But the bad days didn't disappear, they still happened.
He was looking at his younger self. The boy was sitting on a chair at the kitchen table, biting his nails and nervously shaking his leg, looking at the paper in front of him.
Bob knew what would happen next. Of course he did. He had relived this memory numerous times, like many others. He often went through his own shame rooms at night, during nightmares. Were they even nightmares? Maybe it was just the Void messing with him, trying to take over.
Bob was fidgeting in anticipation. He knew his father would soon enter the room.
His younger self was looking at the paper sitting in front of him, a bad grade he had brought home from school. At first, he had considered hiding it from his parents, but then he thought about what would happen when his father found out. It would just make it worse. So, he was here, anxiously waiting for his father to come home.
The door swung open. The man was standing in the entrance, looking at his son with disappointment in his eyes. It was like he already knew, but he always looked at him that way. Bob couldn't even think of a time when his father looked at him with anything other than disappointment, anger, or at best, indifference.
He walked up to the table and grabbed the paper. The boy was looking down, scared to see the expression on his father's face.
“You better have a good explanation, Bobby.”
Bob was standing next to his younger self, watching the scene. But when his father raised his voice, he started stepping back until he hit the wall. The young boy was trying to explain himself, barely managing to get a word out. His father was never a patient man, and Bob turned around just in time for the first blow.
He had seen this memory and other similar ones countless times, but he always tried to look away when his father hit him, he could almost feel the pain when he didn't.
Maybe if he covered his ears and only looked at the wall, everything would be alright. But even with his ears covered, he could hear the second time his father hit his younger self.
From the corner of his eyes, he noticed his mother standing in the doorframe, watching. He knew she wouldn't stop his father, she never did. He would hit her if she tried anyway.
When his father finally stopped and left the room without another word, the young boy was curled up on the floor. His mother walked up to him and he looked up at her, hoping for some kind of comfort. But he never received any, not from her, not from anyone.
“I- I really tried, Mom.” He had tears in his eyes. “I did my best, I swear.”
“Stop it, Robert. Don't make it worse.”
She stood there a moment, looking at him with pity. She opened her mouth, and for a second, he thought she might say something reassuring to her son. But she turned around and walked away without another word. His mother's inaction hurt almost as much as his father’s hands.
Bob approached his younger self, hoping to bring him any kind of comfort. It was too late, of course. This all had happened years ago. But he felt the need to take this young boy in his arms, tell him he would be ok one day.
As he crouched down next to him, the room turned black, and the illusion was gone. He was back in his bed, alone in his bedroom.
He wrapped his arms around his torso, hugging himself. He really wanted to hug that boy. He knew it would be useless, he couldn't change the past. Bringing comfort to an illusion wouldn't help the boy he was then, but maybe it could help the man he was now. He tightened his embrace, as tears started streaming down his face. All that had happened all those years ago would never truly leave him. All the pain, the fears, the loneliness. Sure, he could just go to the hallway and knock on anyone's door. He knew they would answer, even in the middle of the night. They would do their best to comfort him, but they had only known him for a few months and there was a limit to what they could do.
He started crying harder, thinking about his friends in the next rooms. He knew he was a burden for them. They were heroes, of course they would come to him if he called. But they had other things to do, other people to save. They would get tired of him, eventually. He had been on his own for years anyway, he could manage, he’d be fine.
He heard a knock on the door.
“Bob? Are you ok?”
“I’m fine,” he sniffled.
He quickly wiped his tears, he knew Yelena wouldn't be satisfied with this answer.
“Can I come in?”
“Yeah,” he answered, not having the strength to send her away.
The door opened slowly.
“Hey,” she smiled.
“Hey,” Bob answered softly, as he looked down and wrapped his hands around his knees.
Yelena sat on the bed. “How are you feeling?”.
He shrugged. “Sorry I woke you up.”
“I wasn't sleeping anyway, don't worry.” They stayed silent for a moment. “I heard crying so I thought I'd come check.”
He tightened his grip around his knees, getting his legs closer to his chest.
“We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to,” she continued. “But I can keep you company.”
He looked at her. “You don't have to, I don't want to bother you.”
“You’re not bothering me Bob, it’s ok.”
She grabbed his hand in a comforting gesture, but as their skins touched, the room turned black, and she was back in the streets of Morocco.
She immediately knew what day it was: the day she was freed from the Red Room’s mind control. And the day she killed Oksana, one of her widow sisters.
Yelena was standing on the side, watching as the fight quickly came to an end. Oksana used the red dust on her, and it was too late when she realised what she had done.
Yelena knew it wasn't her fault, that she shouldn't blame herself, that the mind control they had on her was too strong. But it didn't change anything. Oksana had given her back her freedom, and, in return, Yelena took her life.
She looked around. Bob was in her memory the first time this had happened in the vault, he was probably here somewhere.
“Bob ?” she called. “Where are you?”
She looked back at Oksana, taking her last breath as the other Yelena was holding her hand.
When she looked up again, Bob was standing on the other side of the street. She took a step in his direction, and the street vanished, bringing them back to the bedroom.
He quickly removed his hand from hers, almost as if touching her burned him.
“I’m sorry, I didn't mean to. I don't control it, I-”
He was talking fast, clearly in panic from what had just happened.
“Bob, it’s ok, don't worry.”
“No! It’s not ok! I shouldn't be here, living with you guys, while I don't even control my powers and can send you in your worst memories without realising it.”
“Bob, really, it’s ok. We knew what it meant when we brought you here to live with us. We're prepared. I’ve been living with this memory anyway, seeing it one more time isn't gonna change anything.”
That wasn't true. Seeing it again hurt her every time, but she couldn't let him know that.
She reached out, wanting to grab his hand, but Bob slid away as far as he could without falling out of the bed.
“Please don't.”
“It’s ok, Bob. You’re not going to hurt me.”
“You don't know that.”
She put her hand down, carefully staying on the other side of the bed.
“Alright, no touching for now.”
He looked at her. “I think you should leave.”
“What? Bob, it’s ok, really.”
“Yelena, please.”
“I don't think staying alone would be a good thing right now. I’m here for you, Bob.”
“PLEASE.”
Yelena froze. She wasn't used to hearing him raise his voice. She looked at him, hoping his eyes would soften and he would change his mind. But they stayed cold. She slowly got up and walked to the door. The hand on the handle, she took one last look at him, but he was looking down, avoiding her eyes.
She opened the door. Bucky and John were standing in the hallway, looking worried.
“What was that? Is everything alright?”
“Not really,” she answered.
John was standing in the doorframe. “You ok Bobby?”
“Don't call me that.”
They all froze, surprised by the tone of his voice. Bob was sitting on the other side of the room, but John could see the yellow glow in his eyes.
“O-Ok, I'm sorry.” He looked at the others.
“Close the door, he wants to be alone,” Yelena explained.
Ava opened her door, rubbing her eyes.
“What was all that?” she yawned.
“That's what I'd like to know.” Bucky added, looking at Yelena.
She sighed and they followed her to the living room, where they were quickly joined by Alexei. Clearly, no one in that tower slept very much.
Yelena briefly explained what had happened. They all stood in silece for a minute. It didn't sound good.
“Was it Void?” John asked, thinking of the golden eyes he had just seen.
“I don't think so. Not yet at least,” Yelena answered. “It was more like what we experienced the first time in the vault.”
John nodded. “So no Void yet, but we should probably do something before he turns.”
“Like what?” Ava asked. “Yelena is usually the best at comforting him and look how it ended.”
Yelena looked down and sat on the couch, taking her head in her hands. Alexei sat next to her.
“It’s not your fault, Lena.”
“It kind of looks like it was.”
“Bob is not stable,” Bucky answered. “Some days you won't be able to help him even if you do your best.”
“But that's exactly when he needs our help the most!”
Bucky sighed. “Ok, I’ll try. I’ll talk to him.”
“Are you sure that's a good idea?” Ava asked.
“Well, we don't have many other options.”
“Maybe you could bring some snacks or something? As a peace offering.” She suggested.
“He usually likes hot chocolate when he’s feeling down,” Yelena added.
“Alright, hot chocolate it is.”
“I’ll make it,” John offered. “I always made it for my kid.”
He grabbed the chocolate powder from the cupboard and got to work.
Still on the coach, Alexei put a hand on Yelena’s shoulder.
“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked.
“I’m not sure there is much more to say,” she sighed. “I probably could have said things differently, but it’s too late for that now.”
“I meant the memory you saw.”
“Oh.” She looked down at her hands. “It was the day I got out of the Red Room.”
“That doesn't sound bad.”
She looked at him. “I never told you how it went, did I? You remember the red dust we used to free all the other widows?”
He nodded.
“Oksana gave it to me, she was a widow too. I was sent after her. When I got to her, she used the dust on me, but it was too late. I had already stabbed her.” She was clenching her fists, her nails digging into her skin. “When I regained consciousness, she was lying on the floor, barely breathing. She gave me the rest of the vials and asked me to free the others, and that was it. She was gone.”
She looked at her father, tears in her eyes. He grabbed her hand.
“There was nothing else you could do. You freed the others, that's what she wanted.”
“But I wish she could’ve been with us. She should have been there, to see the end of the Red Room, to see her sisters finally be free. And she died by my fault.”
“You were still under their control, Lena. She wouldn't blame you, no one would.”
“But I do!” The tears were rolling down her cheeks. “I blame myself, Dad!”
“Oh Lena.” He wiped her tears with his thumb. “People like us learn to live with this kind of things.”
She looked down, wiping the remaining tears with her hands.
“You never told me what you saw in your shame rooms.”
He looked away. “Oh, you know. I did my fair share of bad things back in the day.”
“Was I in any of them?” she asked.
He sighed. “Of course you were.” He looked away. “The day we gave you and Natasha back to Dreykov. 1995, you were only six.”
She nodded. “I always wondered if you had any regrets.”
“Oh absolutely. During those twenty years before I saw you again, I thought of you almost every day. My girls.” He caressed her cheek. “My umnichka.”
She held back a sob and leaned into his hand. Alexei gently wrapped her in a blanket and held her in his arms in a tight embrace. Yelena closed her eyes for a moment.
When she reopened them, John was standing in front of them, holding two mugs.
“Uh sorry, didn't mean to interrupt this father-daughter moment.” He looked at his hands. “I, uh- I thought I'd make hot chocolate for everyone.”
“Thank you, John,” Yelena said with a smile as she grabbed the mug. “I needed that.”
He handed the second one to Alexei and turned back to Bucky.
“And Bob's hot chocolate is ready. I also made one for you, if you want.”
“Thanks,” he chuckled as he grabbed the two mugs, and turned to the hallway. “Well, here goes nothing.”
Once at the door, he knocked with difficulty as his hands were full, and slowly opened it with his elbow.
Bob was still sitting on his bed, looking at the wall.
“Hey kid, Walker made hot chocolate for everyone, there's one for you,” he said as he put the mug on the bedside table.
Bob looked at him. “Thanks,” he said in a small voice.
Bucky was surprised that he accepted it so easily, maybe it wouldn't be as hard as he thought. He grabbed the chair in the corner of the room with his free hand, and brought it near the bed.
“Mind if I sit?”
Bob shrugged. Bucky sat down and took a sip of his hot chocolate.
“Listen. I know you feel bad about what happened. We’ve been through this before. You think it’s your fault, you think you’re a burden for us and that we would be better off without you.”
Bob wrapped his arms around his legs and rested his chin on his knees, but didn't say a word.
“Well you couldn't be more wrong.” Bob looked at him. “We made the choice, the entire team did, to bring you with us to the tower to live with us, because we all agreed it was the best thing to do. Because we want to help.”
“And to keep an eye on me,” Bob added.
“Hey, come on. I’ll admit I'm not very good at this, but you know that's not what I meant.”
Bob shrugged. “But it’s not wrong, is it?”
“Knowing where you are is a good thing, yes. For everyone’s safety, including yours,” Bucky added. “If the Void takes over again, we’ll be close, and we’ll know what to do. But most importantly, Bob, we just really want to be here for you.”
Bob didn't expect that. Some of them had told him they were here for him, but saying they wanted to be here for him was something else. Something he needed to hear.
He burrowed his face behind his arms, trying to hide the tears that were coming up.
“Yelena and I, we know what it’s like to blame ourselves for things we did when we couldn't control our own actions,” Bucky continued. “You probably know already, but we both spent years being under the control of others. We were brainwashed, turned into assassins.”
Bob listened carefully. Yelena had told him a little about her past, but she didn't like talking about it that much. And he had heard about the Winter Soldier, of course, but never from Bucky himself.
“We both killed countless people, some of them were innocent, some could have done great things if they got to live longer. But they're all gone because of us. We’ve been carrying that weight ever since we got out.”
Bucky stopped for a moment. Talking about himself wasn't what he had planned. Not that he really planned anything before coming into that room anyway. He took a deep breath and continued.
“I know it wasn't really me, I was not the one in command, but it was still my hand pulling the trigger or holding the knife. I had to learn to stop blaming myself. I still do sometimes.” He looked at Bob. “You see where I'm going with this, right?
He didn't answer.
“Do you blame me? For the things I've done while I was brainwashed?”
Bob shook his head.
“Do you blame Yelena?”
“No.”
“Then why should we blame you for the things you don't control?”
Bob burrowed his face back into his arms.
“She’s not mad at you, you know? She's just worried.”
Bob's shoulders were shaking. “I’m sorry.” His voice cracked.
Well, that definitely wasn't part of Bucky’s plan. He wasn't very good at comforting people. He grabbed the mug on the bedside table and handed it to Bob.
“Here, drink before it gets cold.”
Bob looked up at him with teary eyes. He moved a little closer to grab the mug.
“Thanks,” he sniffled.
They sat in silence for a couple minutes, both sipping their hot chocolates.
“You know, for some of us, maybe all of us, this team is the closest thing we have to a family.”
Bob blinked at him. That was how he felt, but he didn't expect them to feel the same way.
“Really?” he asked.
“Well, yeah. None of us have many people left,” he explained. “My family died a long time ago. The closest person I have now would be Sam, but we’re not on speaking terms because of this stupid ‘New Avengers’ thing. I’m pretty sure all of our parents are dead, actually. Yelena has Alexei, but that's it. Can you imagine having him as your only family? Ugh.”
Bob chuckled.
“HEY!”
Alexei came barging into the room.
“That's not a nice thing to say.”
“How long have you been listening?” Bucky asked.
He shrugged. "The door was open.”
Bucky sighed.
Ava appeared in the doorframe.
“Sorry, I tried to stop him.” She slapped the back of his head like she was scolding a child. “We agree on the family thing, though.”
“Oh so you tried to stop him but you were, in fact, also listening,” Bucky pointed.
“To be fair,” John said as he entered the room. “We were kinda all listening.” He waved. “Hey Bob.”
“Hey guys”. He waved back, a smile slowly forming on his face.
He was looking at the doorframe, hoping Yelena would come too. After a few seconds that seemed like hours to him, she walked into the room, still wrapped in the blanket Alexei had put on her shoulders. She was looking down, avoiding Bob's eyes.
“Hey Yelena.”
She looked up, and her face softened.
“It’s nice to see you smile again,” she said.
He scratched his head, embarrassed. “I- I’m sorry. About earlier.”
“It’s ok.” She came closer and sat on the bed next to him. “Like Bucky said, we’re a family. We just want to be here for you. And for each other.” She looked at her team.
“Thank you. Really.”
He wanted to grab her hand, but he couldn't help but think about what had happened earlier. It was too fresh in his mind.
“Time for a family hug!”
Alexei walked toward them, arms open and ready to catch him. Bob immediately started to slide backwards to the other side of the bed before Yelena stepped between them, stopping Alexei.
“Come on, I told you about this.” She looked at Bob, and back at Alexei. “He doesn't want to be touched for now,” she whispered.
She sat down again, and looked at him.
“It only works through skin-to-skin contact, right?” she asked. “Can I try something ?”
He nodded. He was still scared, but he trusted her.
Slowly, she removed the blanket from her shoulders and gently wrapped it around Bob. They stayed that way a moment, Yelena hugging him through the blanket. She could feel him relax in her arms.
“Thats nice,” he whispered.
Taking it as an invitation, Alexei sat behind them and hugged them both tightly. One after the other, Ava, John and Bucky joined them, surrounding Bob in a warm embrace.
Yelena rested her head on Bob’s shoulder, being careful to not touch his skin. From under the blanket, Bob grabbed her hand and she squeezed it back.
“Thank you. All of you.”
“No need to thank us. That's what a family does.”