5

Bucky POV 

Wanda and I are both sitting on her bed. She's got all her makeup supplies spread out on the blanket. She's doing my hair. I'm not allowed to look yet. 

"What is troubling you?" she asks as she ties an elastic around the end of whatever style she's done. 

"Steve," I answer vaguely. 

"What did he do?" She moves to sit in front of me, makeup brush in hand. "Close eyes." 

"He got a girlfriend and it's just been causing problems," I start to vent. "She's overly invasive and I think she's intentionally stepping into my relationship with Steve. Steve has been so cold toward me since he started dating her and I think it's because of her. He won't let me come into his room after I have nightmares anymore and he says I need to grow up and handle my trauma like an adult. I don't know how to be an adult! I barely know how to act like a normal human being." 

"Maybe you need to look through his texts," she suggests. "See what the girlfriend has been saying to him when you're not around. Open your eyes. Oh, that looks so good on you. Your eyes are so pretty now. Well, they always were, but this eye shadow looks good. Close again." 

Good at advice, my ass. I'm not going to break Steve's fragile trust. 

"I'm not going to invade Steve's privacy like that. I'm already one step away from being kicked out as it is." 

"Why is that?" I hear her open a bottle or something and something wet touches my eye. 

"Ew, why is it wet?" 

"It's liquid eyeliner. Sit still and tell me why you think you're going to be kicked out." 

"I attacked his girlfriend a little bit. I didn't hurt her. She just wouldn't stop touching me so I grabbed her arm and Steve got all upset."

"Why was she touching you? Open the eyes." I open my eyes and she squeals happily, her nose scrunching as she smiles. "Beautiful!" 

"She was very interested in my metal arm. She kept grabbing it. Why do you need to practice this on someone else?" 

"Did you try asking her to stop?" 

"Yes." 

"Then you did nothing wrong! And I need practice because I'm considering doing this professionally. Natasha said I am very good." She unscrews the cap of a bottle that says 'MASCARA' on it. 

"Steve is worried that the Soldier is back." 

"Is he back? Sit still. This one's dangerous." She starts applying mascara to my eyelashes, which doesn't seem dangerous. I'm not an expert, though. 

"No. Why would you do this professionally? Don't you like Avenger-ing?" Mascara still doesn't feel dangerous. 

"Good. I do like being an Avenger, but I'm legally not allowed to anymore and I don't like having a job where people get hurt. No one gets hurt in cosmetics." 

Ironically, she accidentally jab me in the eye with the mascara. 

"Oops. Except you. You don't mind. Keep talking." 

I do mind, actually, but my autonomy went out the window the moment Wanda had this idea. 

"He started talking to me like I'm a dog. Like, y'know, short commands with a harsh tone." 

"Ergh," she cringes. "Expect a shock collar when you get home." 

I chuckle and tell her I will. She doesn't laugh. She's not joking. 

"So inhumane," she shakes her head. "I can't believe it's even legal." 

"It is?" 

"Yes," she nods. "For dangerous people, like us, they have these special collars that they give to our, um... You had a good word for it." 

"For what?" 

"You know. Do kissy face. For the people who were in charge of you when you were the Winter Soldier." 

"Oh. Handlers." I purse my lips so she can put lipstick on me.

"Yes! The people in charge give our handlers special collars, just in case we go berserk or something. I had one when I went to prison for defending you. Steve has yours. Tony is supposed to have mine, but Natasha took it from him."

Surely, Steve wouldn't keep that, right? He trusts me. He wouldn't go to such lengths to keep me out of prison if he didn't trust me. 

"That's cruel. Is this the same lipstick you use?" 

"I know. Yes, it is. That's alright, though, isn't it? I don't have any other lipstick." 

"That is so unsanitary." I take the lipstick tube out of her hand and throw it. 

"Too late. Maybe you need to confront Steve about this. Make him listen. Tell him that you aren't doing anything wrong."

"I'll talk to him." 

"Do you promise?" 

"No." 

"You're mean." 

---------------- 

Steve POV 

"I already talked to him," I assure Jennifer as I drive her home. "It won't happen again." 

Jennifer told me she feels unsafe around Bucky and that she wants me to do something about it. 

"But isn't there something you can DO to prevent it from happening again?" 

I think about the box I buried under clothes in the back of my closet. I almost punched Tony when he gave it to me, but I refrained and instead told him it wasn't necessary. He made me keep it anyway, just in case. 

"I can handle Bucky, Jennifer. Don't worry."

She sighs as I pull up to her house. I get out of the car and open her door for her. 

We exchange 'I love you's and a hug before she goes inside and I leave. 

I come home and find Bucky sitting at the kitchen table with a face full of makeup. It's a lot, but it's not enough to cover up the obvious frown on his face. I tell him he looks nice, but it does nothing to lift his mood. 

"Sit down, Rogers." He gestures toward the seat across from him. "We need to talk." 

"About?" I ask as I take a seat. 

He reaches below his chair and places a box on the table. I instantly feel a wave of guilt when I recognize it. 

"What is this?" He takes the shock collar out of the box and drops it on the table. 

"That... that's not mine," I try lying. 

"It was in your closet." 

"Why were you looking through my closet?" I accuse to deflect the conversation. 

"I was looking for this. Why do you have it?" 

"Tony gave it to me," I admit. I'm not a very good liar anyway. "Just in case you... soldiered out or something."

"I won't."

"We don't know that for sure. It's just a precaution, Buck. If you start acting out, Tony wants to he able to insure other people's safety." 

"I thought you trusted me." 

"I do-" 

"Then why do you keep it?" 

I can't seem to answer that one without contradicting myself. Why do I keep it? I was told that all of Bucky's brainwashing is completely gone. The trigger words won't work anymore, and I know that. I guess it just makes me feel safer to know that I have it even if Bucky would never forgive me if I actually used it. 

"Safety," is all I can really manage to get out. 

"I make you feel... unsafe?" he asks quietly and it breaks my heart a little. 

"Not me!" I insist unhelpfully. "Jennifer feels unsafe." 

Bucky's expression turns from a frightening calm to a murderous rage. He picks up the collar and throws it at me as hard as he can, which I barely dodge. It hits the floor loudly as Bucky stands up, accidentally knocking his chair over in his haste. 

"You're keeping that fucking torture device in our house because that bitch feels unsafe?!" he screams at me and I can't even bring myself to scold him for cursing. "She makes me feel unsafe, but you don't seem to care about that! You see what she wants you to see, and she's hurting me on purpose to make me leave!" 

I slowly stand up as he takes in ragged breaths. He's worked himself into hysterics and I don't want to startle him into another screaming fit. 

"You're being paranoid, Buck," I say softly. "Jennifer is not trying to hurt you or make you leave. Calm down." 

Abruptly calm, he composes himself and puts his chair back upright. He takes in a shaky breath, not making eye contact with me. 

"I'm gonna go wash this shit off my face," he announces hoarsely. "I'll talk to you later."