Chapter Text
Turbulence, noun: violent or unsteady, conflict; confusion
That was one way to describe the healing process that Bob was currently trying to claw his way through. Turbulent. Sure, he knew that ‘healing isn’t linear’ and ‘everyone processes trauma differently’, but he just wanted it to be over. He wanted to push through the memories and cross the finish line as soon as possible. Push past the pain and let this all fall behind him. But alas, here he was. Zoning out on the couch in the living room while binging a show with Yelena.
She had gotten up to make some more popcorn, and Bob decided to pass the time on his phone as the sound of kernels popping could be heard distantly from the kitchen.
When she came back to the couch, mounding bowl of popcorn in hand, she saw Bob’s face had dropped from his small smile that’d been plastered on his face for the last few hours. His eyes had widened a bit and were fixated on the carpet on the floor. One of his hands was absentmindedly rubbing the hem of his shirt between the pads of his fingers, and the other was holding his phone in his lap, the screen repeating a short video that he’d been watching as a song played in the background.
”Bob?” Yelena said, hoping to get his attention. He didn’t respond, didn’t even seem to recognize she was in the room, just kept staring at the carpet with a blank expression on his face.
She set the bowl down on the couch, sitting down next to him but keeping a few inches between them so she didn’t startle him.
“Bob.” She tried again, this time a bit louder and less unsure. He’d zoned out before around the others, and everyone in the Watchtower knew where Bob’s mind would go sometimes when he was left alone with it.
-:===:-
He knew he was zoning out, he could feel himself slipping from reality, falling back in time into a memory he’d rather not be remembering right now. All because of that stupid song in the background of a Tik Tok that reminded him of his dad.
It was almost summer break, the last one before he started High School. Back when he was too young to be brave enough to stand up to his dad, to protect his mom. Back when all he could do was close his eyes and cover his ears. He wasn’t lucky enough to have siblings to come comfort him and tell him that it’s okay, that it’ll be over soon. No one to shove a pair of headphones over his ears and blast music into his ears to drown out the noise and spare him from moments like this, trapped in his own mind. His family had been visiting to celebrate his “graduation” from Middle School, and they were staying in the guest room at the time. His aunt and her husband from his mother’s side.
He could hear his father yelling at his mom as it echoed through the alls of the house and through his bedroom’s door.
And then his father got louder.
And started saying “fuck” and “bitch” every other word in all of his sentence.
And then the front door slammed behind them, rattling the house as they stepped out to the front steps. He could hear frantic footsteps coming from the guest room, and a quick “call the cops” being yelled out by his uncle as he approached the front door.
Annd then-
“Bob? Are you okay?” Yelena’s voice broke through and snapped him out of his memory.
He picked up his head and blinked, looking around. His phone had been taken from his hand and placed next to the couch on a small side table, video long since paused.
”Huh? Oh, uh, yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.” He cleared his throat and folded his hands in his lap, stopping his fidgeting. “Oh, more popcorn?” He motioned toward the bowl, “Cool”. He put on his best fake smile and nodded.
Yelena gave him a concerned, questioning look, “you wanna tell me about it?”
”I uh…” there’s no point in hiding it anymore, she knew what was happening in his head just like the rest of them. Everyone knew, but they never forced him to talk about it, just made it known that they were there for him.
“I don’t think so.” He said, his face dropping and he started avoiding eye contact (even more than usual, if that was even possible). He put his legs up on the couch, curling himself into a ball.
Yelena nodded and held her arms out, offering him a hug. Bob studied her for a moment before accepting and pulling himself toward her and wrapping his arms around her back, Yelena doing the same.
After a few seconds had passed and Bob hadn’t let go, Yelena leaned herself back onto the arm of the couch, laying them down. She unpaused the show they had been watching together and turned the volume down until it was background noise. Her hands made heir way up to his hair and started slow carding through it.
Bob isn’t even aware of what happened afterward since he had fallen asleep not much longer after.
He woke up the next morning to Yelena speaking softly to someone standing behind the couch. He opened his eyes for a few seconds before closing them again and listening to her voice as he slowly woke up.
The only clue as to who she was talking to was the sound of their footsteps as they retreated down the hallway back to their room and the familiar creek of the door he heard every night next door to his own bedroom.