Chapter Text
“What the fuck happened?”
Bucky didn’t have time to fight with Nat, not when you were bleeding out on the floor at the back of the jet. He was kneeling at your side as Sam played makeshift doctor, carefully listening to instructions from Helen through a video call.
He knew it was important to focus on helping Sam but the dark red blood staining your skin and the gentle flutter of your eyelids as you slipped in and out of consciousness had him on edge. He couldn’t let you die. This could not be an ending.
‘Based on your preliminary check and the scans, it would be helpful if you could extract the bullet now - but we’ll be fully prepped in the hangar for surgery.’
Sam propped Helen up on the closest bench and tucked into his medical kit, throwing a sideways glance at Bucky. “I have a sedative for her but it may not do much for the pain.”
Bucky just nodded along. He turned his attention towards you and spoke your name. “This is going to hurt.”
He watched as you tried to open your eyes, in an attempt to follow his voice. “Already..hurts..”
The next steps were practically a blur. Bucky tried everything he could to try and ease you through it all, but acting as Sam’s medical support took precedence over comforting you. When it was done and Sam dropped the bullet into a nearby disposal dish, your moans of pain didn’t slow down.
Sam’s attention went back to Helen, but his instructions to Bucky were to maintain pressure on your leg. They were less than ten minutes from the compound and you couldn’t stand to lose anymore blood.
So, Bucky shifted. Your head was cradled in his lap, one arm holding you tight while the other pressed onto the dressing on your leg. “You’re going to be okay, doll. I promise.”
You groaned against him once more. Your head moved to the side. “Is it.. over?”
Bucky hesitated. “You can’t let go yet, okay? That part is over, but the rest - it’s not over. You have to hold on for me. You have to.”
“..so tired.” Your eyes closed again but that time, there was no flutter behind them.
Bucky’s eyes grew wide, looking over his shoulder to call for help. His head snapped back to you seconds later, running his hand over your forehead as he whispered your name. “I’m so sorry, doll. I’m sorry.”
It all felt like a fever dream. Had you really been hidden in plain sight in New York for months? Did you really spend weeks at a cabin in the woods? Were the feelings you developed for Bucky real? Were you actually recovering from a bullet wound?
The pain radiating through your left thigh was a very real reminder that yes, that last part had definitely been true. It came back in glimpses, like flash bangs of memory as you laid up in the temporary protected apartment in Chicago. Your dad was perched on the armchair to your left, your brother was sitting at the small kitchen island on his laptop.
Outside in the hall, a rotation of agents had been coming and going until the trial was finished. It had been going on for two days already and your testimony was scheduled for the next day.
Until then, you were safe and parked on the couch.
Despite finally being reunited with your family, there was still a lingering ache in you. Not in your thigh but in your heart. The quiet empty days mirrored just what you left in the cabin with Bucky.
Bucky.
Bucky, who had safely guided you from the cabin. Bucky, who coordinated with Sam to fight off all the additional thugs who wanted your head on a platter. Bucky, who held you when Sam operated in the jet. Bucky, who squeezed your hand after laying you down on a stretcher at The Avengers Compound, leaving you with the medical team.
Bucky, who left you there.
Bucky.. who hadn’t reached out since.
You felt like you were losing it - those weeks in the cabin really must not have meant anything beyond the baseline of safety. The close, intimate moments had clearly been romanticized in your head. Every little touch, every quickened heartbeat could be chalked up to adrenaline and fantasy.
The worst part, though, was just how removed you felt. Natasha had left you in the trusted hands of a team of specialty FBI agents up until the trial. Despite the fact that Bad Guy Number One was in custody and under heavily armed guards, there was still a requirement for you to maintain a security detail up until the sentencing. Luckily, that was going to be over soon enough.
And then? Well, then it was back to real life. The past six months of your life, the ups and downs, your time in Manhattan, everything at the cabin - it was nothing but a memory. A dream. Something that felt like it happened to someone else, somewhere else, in another lifetime.
Unsurprisingly, it hadn’t been the first instance of someone attacking Bucky’s arm and using it as a weakness. That tiny piece of technology that had stuck to his vibranium arm and sent shockwaves through his synthetic nerves - it was equally impressive and aggravating. And making the decision to remove it, well, that caused the pain to send him into an entirely new hemisphere of discomfort.
But the way that scumbag was threatening you, pressing his gun into you, sliding his hands up and across your body, Bucky couldn’t let it go on for even another millisecond.
In an instant, he had torn through the wiring behind the metal plating, throwing himself into a standing position and sent a knife into the arm of that piece of shit.
Bucky tied him up and sent you away.
“Now, put on your shoes and go.”
He did his best to ignore the frightened look painted across your face. “What? Where am I-
Bucky called your name, louder than before and met your eyes. “Go.” You were smart. God, you were smart. So he trusted you knew where to go, to meet him at the shed so you could both sneak away underground.
He knew he didn’t have very much time though. Once you were safely out of the cabin and retreating to the shed, he had to work quickly. There was no doubt that other people were coming - that Sean’s timeline had been fucked up enough that his backup would have been waiting closeby, too.
But he indulged, for a fraction of a second. With a quiet grunt, he flipped Sean onto his side - the side where the knife had left a pretty gross wound already. Then Bucky retrieved his gun from where Sean had kicked it away just moments earlier.
“How did you find her?” Bucky crouched down in front of him, keeping the man’s jaw firmly between his thumb and index finger. “How many more people are coming?”
Sean just laughed. “She’s disposable, man. Seems like a lot of wasted resources to keep her alive, don’t you think?”
Bucky shoved him back towards the floor, searching through Sean’s pockets and finding his phone before Bucky stood again. His jaw clenched. “How did you find her?”
“It’s cute - you’ve been playing house with her out here and you have a soft spot for the bitch now.” Sean laughed again, shaking his head as he rocked against the floor.
Bucky knew he couldn’t waste any more time - he stepped forward and placed his foot against Sean’s neck. “How did you-
Sean spat in Bucky’s direction. “She’s not going to make it so I hope you got yours. If you didn’t, I’ll let you know - it was really good, surprisingly good. All they said was to get close to her and she didn’t hesitate to open her legs or -”
Bucky didn’t hesitate to send his foot forward, hitting Sean directly in between his thighs. He sucked in a breath and pointed his gun downwards. “You’re wrong, you know, about exactly who is disposable in this situation.”
Bucky woke up to an aggressive series of knocking on his door. He ignored it - he had no plan to leave his bed. He couldn’t bring himself to do much of anything.
“Barnes!” Nat’s voice called out in the hallway. “We have to leave in 30 minutes and I'm sure you could use a shower first.”
Although that remark likely held a lot of truth, Bucky remained in his position, curled up on his side and staring at the wall. He had reverted back to his reclusive self in the aftermath of how everything had ended. After the jet had touched down at the compound, Bucky didn’t even get the opportunity to go see you in recovery before you had been taken back to Chicago.
He knew the reunion with your brother and father had been long awaited but the fact that you would be spending the weeks ahead rehabilitating after the bullet damaged your muscle structure - he had been left with a heavy blanket of guilt.
It had been his fault. His mandate had been easy - to keep you safe. Yet he managed to fuck that up in seconds. He had cashed in every single prayer and good thought and traded any favour imaginable with whatever God was listening to him - your survival was essential.
But he was responsible for your brush with death.
“Bucky!” Nat’s fist hit echoed a few more times and finally he peeled himself away from his fetal position, nearly removing the door from its hinges as he threw it open.
“I’m not going.”
Nat scoffed. “Yes. You are. You have to give a statement of record too.”
Bucky shook his head. “I’ll connect with a video call.”
“Nope.” Nat narrowed her eyes. “Shower, clean clothes, 20 minutes.”
Begrudgingly, Bucky did shower. He slipped into a pressed button down shirt, his best black jeans and cargo boots then met Natasha and Sam at the helipad. All he could manage to do for the entire jet ride was stare off into the abyss, doing everything he could manage to not think about you.
And yet, it seemed like all he could think about. He couldn’t stop his mind from replaying that stupid moment - that instance where he should have been better shielding your body, when he should have zip tied the hands of those goons laying on the ground. The moment where he shouldn’t have fucked up but he did.
A reckless, stupid mistake.
Even though Helen repaired your muscle, you were still hurt and damaged because of his negligence. Even though you were alive, he hadn’t succeeded well enough.
He was supposed to keep you safe, damnit. And he fucked it all up.
As it turned out, being a key witness in a high profile case involving murder and illegal weapons and general Bad Guy Nonsense was not as exciting as most television shows made it out to be. Well, exciting wouldn’t be the word you would ever use to describe the situation, at least.
First and foremost, it was nerve wracking. Even though the Government appointed lawyer talked you through the process and exactly what was expected of you, actually being at the courthouse felt like an entirely different mountain to climb. Even worse, you still couldn’t put very much weight onto your left leg so they were transporting you in a wheelchair.
Second to that, the courtroom itself was under a strict security watch and only witnesses and critical personnel were allowed in during the active trial. The only saving grace for you was that your dad was allowed to be your official plus one and sat directly at your side when he wasn’t shuttling you around in the chair. Between him and the team of agents keeping guard, you never felt like your personal safety was at risk. That was certainly a relief.
It wasn’t until you were in the courtroom, patiently waiting for things to get started, that you really felt even a bit overwhelmed. The busy members of the media were kept locked out in the hallway and the dramatic wooden walls of the room seemed to echo every single noise coming from inside.
The shuffling of feet when the accused man was brought in.
The knocking of the wooden gavel underneath the Judge’s hand.
How your crutches squeaked against the floor as you were assisted into the witness box.
You scanned the room once you were seated, doing everything you could to focus on the lawyer who was in the middle of his monologue before the jury. It was then you saw him across the room, sitting barely two rows behind where your chair remained with your dad.
Bucky.
You resisted letting your eyes go wide in wonder as you met his. Part of you couldn’t even believe he was real, that he was sitting there, eyes boring into your soul in that echo chamber of a room. You wanted to mouth something, convey some sort of message to him but it felt impossible. As the defending lawyer started to volley questions at you, you broke your gaze and reached a hand towards your neckline. Your anxious vice - your necklace - wasn’t there. Right. Your eyes flicked to Bucky once more, willing yourself and your courage to listen and respond. His head hung down, looking towards the floor.
You took a deep breath and focused.
‘Please recount the events of the night in question.’
‘Can you please point out the person you allegedly saw that same night.’
‘Can you describe what happened the night of your injury?’
‘Can you describe the person who entered the cabin?’
And although your voice shook and you had to pause a few more times than you thought you would, you survived. Even the cross examination had been manageable, although the lawyer certainly tried their best to find an untrue foundation in your story.
The rest of the trial flew by so quickly, you hardly had time to focus on what was happening. Natasha gave a statement, Bucky gave a statement, more suits and agents spoke their opinions on things too. But by the time it all came to an end, all you understood was that it truly was over. Finally.
Although the sentencing would be determined at a later date, you were free to return to your life again. As the courtroom slowly emptied, you stayed back with your dad. A few minor details needed to be sorted about your next steps.
You traced your fingers along the arm of the wheelchair, nervously looking around the emptying room. That’s when you finally caught Bucky’s gaze once more and when you called his name, he barely even made the effort to turn his head.
You watched as he stilled for an extra moment, shifting his jaw before hurrying out of the room. Before you had the chance to call his name again, Natasha appeared in front of you.
Your father immediately stood, introducing himself and expressively telling Natasha how grateful he was that she had taken care of you and kept you safe. How your wellbeing was so important to him and that despite his own injuries, he was glad that at least the criminal would get what he deserved.
You swallowed your smirk as Natasha placated him, assuring him that she was just doing her job and that she wasn’t the only person responsible for your safety.
“Dad,” you finally cut him off, reaching your hand out to grab his. You squeezed gently. “Do you mind getting me an orange juice? I think there was a vending machine down the hall.”
“Of course, of course,” he clasped his hands together and smiled as he turned away.
“And here I thought you were a talker,” Natasha leaned against the bench seat in front of you, raising an eyebrow playfully.
You couldn’t help but laugh. “Where do you think I got it from?”
Natasha filled you in on everything else she knew - your new apartment in the city, your return to work date, Steve’s plan on safely delivering Luigi back into your arms. And although you felt like you were supposed to be excited about all these things, relieved even, there was still something creating a roadblock in your mind. Or someone, rather.
“How’s your leg feeling?” Natasha carried on. You knew she was searching your face for how you were really doing with all of this. “Are you okay?”
“Oh, I’m fine,” you brushed off. “Glad this is all over. And my leg is okay, might have an annoying scar but I guess it’s also kind of a cool scar?” You offered her a smile although you were doubtful it seemed sincere.
Natasha tipped her head to the side. “A very cool scar. I’ve got one here.” She moved her hand and let it hover over her left hip. “Bucky was involved with mine, too.”
You frowned when she mentioned his name. “This wasn’t his fault.”
“I know,” Natasha replied quickly, flitting her eyes towards the door where Bucky had hurried out earlier. “Deep down he knows it, too.”
Pulling your lips into a straight line, you forced yourself to nod. You were understanding, of course. “He doesn’t want to talk to me?” You sighed. “I mean, I get it. He doesn’t owe me anything. I just thought..” Swallowing the lump in your throat was unbearable, holding back the tears that pricked your eyes was even worse. “We didn’t even get to say goodbye, I guess. Feels weird.”
Natasha said your name quietly. “It’s nothing personal, I promise. It’s just.. Bucky.”
“Right. I know keeping me safe, that was just his job.” After a sharp exhale, you shifted and looked up at her again. “Is my contract up or can I still cash in some Government favours? I mean, given that I helped put a Very Bad Guy in jail and all.”
Natasha rolled her eyes, although you could hear the playfulness in her tone. “What do you want? I’ll see what I can do.”
Bucky spent his next few weeks stuck in the same pattern: wake up, train, sleep, repeat. Sometimes he checked into his mandated therapy sessions, sometimes he skipped them altogether. Sometimes he ate dinner with Steve or Sam, but most of the time he retreated to his bedroom alone.
If anyone was looking for him though, they knew to check the gym. And although everyone had been growing frustrated with his reactions and mood lately, it was Natasha who finally decided to deal with it head on. When she found Bucky attempting to alleviate his frustrations on yet another heavy bag in the corner, she intervened.
“Barnes - I’m sick of this routine. What has gotten into you?”
“I fucked up, okay?” He shook his head, using both hands to steady the punching bag. The next breath he sucked in felt painful - because once again, despite his best efforts, all he could think about was you.
You bleeding out in the jet.
You being pushed into the courtroom in a wheelchair.
The way your voice shook during your testimony.
How you called his name and he just walked away.
The dozens of messages and missed calls on his phone.
A growl escaped Bucky. His fists gripped the side of the leather bag.
“Listen,” Nat crossed her arms, eyes narrowed as she watched him from the other side of the mat. “You did. You did fuck up.”
“Great, thanks.”
“No, I said listen.” She took a step forward and pushed him away from the bag. “Everything you spelled out in your report is true - no pulse check, no weapons check. I hate to admit it but everyone fucks up. My take is yes, that bullet wound is on you. But you did keep her safe, you kept her sane, even.”
Bucky rolled his eyes. “Are you trying to make me feel better?”
Nat smirked. “I am trying to help you open your eyes.” She shook her head. “What did I tell you when I dropped her off?”
“That I was going to have an unbearable time?”
“No.” She blinked a few times, eyes wide. “I told you not to fall in love, Barnes. And what did you do?”
“I didn’t fall in love,” he scoffed.
Nat rolled her eyes next. “You have been beating yourself up for weeks. You keep telling your therapist you aren’t ready to go back into the field yet - now or maybe ever? Steve said you aren’t sleeping. Sam caught you looking up her Instagram and -
“That doesn’t mean I’m in love.”
“Bucky. I’m trying to be frank here - you were emotionally compromised and you made a mistake. Don’t you think that means something? Are you that offended by the idea that you might have feelings for her?”
“What am I supposed to say right now, Nat? She and I - we spent weeks in very close quarters and, okay, maybe I started getting comfortable with her.” Suddenly Bucky’s hands were up once more, creating another rhythm of punches against the heavy bag. “Maybe I got too comfortable, even. I wasn’t supposed to - it wasn’t supposed to happen. She.. I was doing my job. She just weaved her way into my head. So what if I would think about her first thing when I woke up in that cabin and yes, sure, every single day since then, she has crossed my mind. But that doesn’t mean I’m in love with her. And you know what? It doesn’t fucking matter, anyway. She got shot because of me, remember? Why would she even want to talk to me again after I let that happen?” His last series of blows hit hard - hard enough to shake the chains and send dust falling from the bracket in the ceiling. “Why the fuck would she want me ?”
He wasn’t sure if he wanted to admit it, his real truth. That version of him in the cabin - the one that let down his guard, the one that let you in, he liked that Bucky. He liked to laugh with you, cook with you, debate with you.
“Why wouldn’t she want you?” The soft tone of her reply shocked even Nat. But seeing the temporary fraction of Bucky’s emotions was rare and she didn’t want to scare him off now. “Why else would she reach out and message you even now?”
Bucky’s face stiffened. His eyes shot down towards the floor.
“Barnes, c’mon. You texted her back, right?”
He sighed. “I was trying to draw a boundary, I guess.”
“Now you think it’s time for a boundary? You just told me how much you care for her, how you can’t stop thinking about her, but you can’t even reply to her texts? You’re a fucking idiot.” She reached out and swatted the back of his head. “I’m going to hand you another chance on a silver platter, okay? If you fuck this up, it’s on you.”
Although the venue hosting your cousin’s wedding didn’t match your own personal tastes, you were grateful for the sprawling garden just outside the main ballroom. When you realized your life had been put back together in time to attend her wedding, you had been so excited. But it turned out that you were not put back together enough - because being around all those people made you feel like you were suffocating.
Especially when you were at the front of the room, giving a toast to your cousin and her new groom, you had worked really hard to fight off your anxiety attack.
Anxiety - that was definitely new. Your therapist said it was a ‘common comorbidity’ with a Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.
You told her she had to be joking. Sure, maybe you kept having flashbacks to that night. And okay, one day at work you collapsed when an unfamiliar courier delivered the daily mail to the front desk and made eye contact with you. But PTSD? Nooooo.
You managed to down your entire goblet of white wine before disappearing outside, escaping aunts, uncles and one particularly inquisitive stare from your brother. Down towards the garden was where you found some solace - a small bench, easily accessible by you and your leftover limp, that overlooked the river where, aside from the occasional boat tour that floated by, it was quiet.
Quiet enough to hear the river, to notice the chirping of the gulls across the way, to close your eyes and feel the warm early fall breeze. You had been searching for this calm feeling again ever since you left that stupid cabin. And now that you had found it, you realized it just wasn’t fixing your mood like you hoped.
Maybe it wasn’t the atmosphere you needed, maybe it was the company..
You cursed to yourself, tugging at the hem of your dress before digging into your pocket to retrieve your phone. You had convinced yourself to give up on checking for a message from Bucky and yet every time your notification tray remained empty, you felt that same wash of disappointment.
A week ago, you had opened your messages to him and saw those coveted three dots indicating he was writing to you. Then they disappeared, along with any shred of hope that you had for any kind of future communication with him.
You took in a long breath and closed your eyes again, gripping the edge of the bench behind your knees. Then, you felt someone drop down beside you.
“Hey.”
Your eyes shot open as you gasped at the sudden intrusion, shuffling to the side as you shifted to look at who had joined you on the bench. Bucky Barnes himself.
“Jesus Christ, you can’t just sneak up on a person like that,” you said as your mouth fell open in surprise. You wanted to reach out and see if this was real. You tried to subtly take him in as he sat opposite you - was his hair combed? Was he wearing a dress shirt? He made an all black outfit look so effortless and handsome and, God, you wanted it to be real. “You need to wear a bell.”
Bucky simply smirked, tilting his head slightly as he took you in just the same way.
Suddenly, you felt very self conscious in your dress. Even though you knew it flattered your body well enough but, well, did it? You probably could have tried a bit harder with your hair but you couldn’t bring yourself to care very much and -
Bucky cut you off before you could even let your thoughts surface. “How are you?”
You looked at him with wide eyes and forced yourself to blink once, blink twice. Was this really how he was starting this? “What are you even doing here?”
He sighed, twisting to press his back against the bench. “Nat arranged your special favour - she and Steve just interrupted the reception, in case you want to get in on the photo op with Captain America.” He pointed his thumb up towards the venue. “She also, uh, talked some sense into me.”
You smiled for a brief second thinking about how excited your cousin and her husband probably were about the surprise guest stars. Nat really did pull through. You also knew she did tough love well - so you could only wonder what kind of sense she had tried to slap into Bucky.
Your smile fell. “Yeah, like what?”
Bucky spoke your name softly as he turned his head to meet your gaze. “Letting you get shot really… it really messed me up. No, actually. You, specifically, really messed me up.”
You raised an eyebrow. “Oh. Well, that’s great. Good chat.” You tried to push yourself up to stand.
“Wait, wait.” He turned again and grabbed your nearest hand, keeping you on the bench. “Everything that happened at the cabin - I’m grateful for it. Getting to know you, letting you get to know me, it’s been the highlight of my last few years. But I fucked up because of it - mixing business with pleasure, it’s uh.. it’s really thrown me for a loop, I guess.” He let out a long breath as he cradled your hand in his, running his fingers against yours. “You getting shot is my fault. And I have to live with that.”
Your eyes moved from his, to his downward turned lips, to his warm fingers against your hand. “Do you remember what you said to me? In one of my many spirals? Sometimes it’s easier to be hard on yourself instead of dealing with somethin’ else. ” In one quick motion you flipped your hand and grasped his, locking your fingers together. “I’m okay. I’m alive. I survived. So you need to deal with whatever else is going on, Bucky.”
“But you shouldn’t have been at risk in the first place.” His voice was low, ashamed. “My stupid heart clouded my judgement and -
“Your heart?” You held back a smile.
Bucky rolled his eyes, trying to shrug off the blush on his face. “So maybe I’ve grown to like you a bit more than I first thought. That doesn’t mean I should have let you get injured. You could have died. On the jet, I thought you did.”
“You feel guilty. You know, that doesn’t mean you should have ignored me at the trial and then just ghosted me entirely. I thought there was something here, regardless of gunshot wounds.” You motioned your free hand between yourself and him. “Unless it really was one-sided - ‘cause what do I know? But then again, would you really be here, tracking me down at some wedding in Illinois if it was one-sided, right? I mean, maybe you didn’t text me back because you don’t know how a cell phone works or -
“I know how a cell phone works!” Bucky laughed and pulled your hand closer. “No, it wasn’t one-sided. You’ve become a permanent fixture in my mind, doll. I just want to say sorry though, I need to say it. I didn’t keep you safe like I promised.”
You took a moment to breathe as he pulled your hand up to press a kiss to your knuckles. “Bucky, listen to me. I know it wasn't your fault but if you need to hear it, I forgive you. You did keep me safe, before all of that. Every day in that cabin.. I survived because of you." You took in another deep breath. "You are only allowed to apologize once more and then we’re moving on, okay?”
“No. Sorry, I will probably try to apologize every day for the rest of my life.” A small smirk grew on his face, though you felt a twist in your chest when it suddenly deflated. “And this next apology…”
“Bucky.” You tried to stop him as he let go of your hand and stood up.
“Just..” He took a deep breath and reached into the pocket of his pants, pulling out a small velvet bag. He fiddled with the drawstring before pulling out what appeared to be the chain of a necklace.
You gasped and stood up just as he did, though a bit slower to find your footing. “I thought..”
Bucky reached out with his free hand to steady you, not so subtly letting his hand simply rest on your hip after the fact. “Stark was going back to fix his security problem so I went with him. And then on a treasure hunt.” He let the necklace hang off his finger, swaying slightly in the breeze.
Hot tears formed behind your eyelids as the gold medallion of your mother’s necklace shined against the evening sunset. You let it collect in the palm of your hand as Bucky gently let go. “Thank you.”
“We gave it a full treatment in the lab to make sure whatever synthetic they coated it in was gone, too.” His hand left your hip and he raised an eyebrow. “Can I..”
“Yes, please.” Your eyes flicked up to meet his as he grabbed the necklace again. Was he.. Oh god, you could see him blushing and it took all your willpower to bite your tongue and hold back providing some comment about how cute he was. Once you brushed your hair out of the way, you couldn’t help but hold your breath while he clasped the chain around your neck.
All at once, a comforting weight returned when you felt it resting against your chest once again. You understood what his intentions had been when he pulled it from your neck that night and part of you had resolved you were never going to see it again. You knew losing that piece of your mother didn’t mean she was gone from your heart but you had felt so empty in the meantime. So lost. But now, with Bucky standing in front of you and that familiar texture under your thumb as you held the medallion, everything felt a bit better.
“It’s beautiful. You - you’re beautiful.” Bucky’s hands travelled from the back of your neck, across the exposed skin of your arms, to reach your own hands. He squeezed them gently, closing in the space between you. “And I mean that. When I said it under the waterfall and now.” He tipped his head and caught your stare. “What? Are you preparing your next argument about it?”
You matched his smirk. “No. I’ll let it go this time. I will graciously accept the compliment.” You let go of his hands and snaked your arms up to wrap around his neck. You watched as he slid his tongue across his lips before - God, wow, how dare he - catching his lower lip between his teeth. “I think I want to kiss you.”
Bucky swallowed whatever seemed caught in his throat. “We can. We should.”
“Absolutely we should.”
Suddenly, it felt like a fever dream again. When your lips finally hit Bucky’s, it was like a ricochet of your memories coming to the surface again - the initial distance between you both, your close call with heat stroke, how he held you under the waterfall, the smell of his body wash when you fell asleep against his chest. It was Bucky, Bucky, Bucky and his soft lips and the way his hands roamed and held your back and God, his lips, his tongue, how he moaned into you, how you -
“There you are!”
Your eyes shot open when you heard the voice behind you.
“Captain America and the Black Widow are signing autographs and - oh my god, who are you kissing?”
You pulled away from Bucky and closed your eyes. “Fuck.” Over your shoulder, you could see your brother standing with wide eyes and a growing smirk on his face.
“Are you making out with Bucky Barnes? Like Captain America’s best friend?”
“Your most important title,” you muttered to Bucky as you turned around to look at your brother directly. “Yes, I was just making out with Bucky Barnes. What of it?”
You could feel your cheeks warming up as your brother walked closer and awkwardly introduced himself to Bucky. You prayed to anyone who would listen that your brother wouldn’t try to give Bucky some awkward speech about respecting your honour. Those worries quickly disappeared when they both got into some conversation about sports or something. You could hardly pay attention as the three of you headed back towards the building ahead. Bucky’s hand was tangled with yours, giving it a gentle squeeze as if to make sure you were okay.
You glanced up at him and responded with a soft smile. He gave it right back and God, did your stomach twist - but in an exciting way, in a wonderful, magical, hopeful way.
You knew you had really learned to trust your gut instincts over the past six months. Or you thought you did, at least. Although, you had definitely been wrong about the innocent guy you met outside your vet’s office.
When you thought back to your first impressions about Bucky, you could only laugh about how wrong you were about him, too.
“What are you thinking about?” Bucky broke you from your lost thoughts, keeping his distance from the dance floor once you were inside. The excitement about the surprise guests certainly hadn’t calmed down yet and you decided you wanted to stay in the moment with Bucky for just a few more seconds.
“Just you, mostly,” you replied with a smirk, slotting yourself into his personal bubble. You relaxed when his arm landed around your back and held you close against him. “How I hope you’ll stay for a dance.”
“I guess,” Bucky replied with a matching smirk. “I haven’t danced in a long time though.”
“Oh, and my dad will definitely want to meet you.” You looked towards Bucky with hopeful eyes. “If that’s okay. He’ll just want to thank you for saving my life and all that stuff. I hope that’s not weird or too soon. Not that we’re dating or whatever, but I realize usually you don’t meet the parents so quickly and -
Bucky cut you off with a kiss. You could have melted into the ballroom carpet.
“I’d love to meet him, sweetheart,” Bucky said once he pulled away, pressing another kiss to the top of your head. “It’s your cat I’m really worried about meeting.”
You shrugged a shoulder. “As you should be. Luigi is very particular.”
Four months later…
To no one’s surprise, The Pines was just as warm and cozy in the winter as it had been during those grueling weeks of the summer. In fact, you would probably be the first to admit how much better the cabin was with a fire going in the woodstove and the ambiance of snow falling outside. Truthfully, you couldn’t think of a better place to be celebrating the New Year.
And the company wasn’t half bad either.
Figuring out this - you and Bucky and dating - had been a real adventure over the last few months. Bucky turning up at your apartment in Chicago after a mission, you visiting him for Thanksgiving, him joining your family for Christmas dinner. There hadn’t been a real plan or serious next steps in motion yet but every second you got to spend together had been such a joy. A true silver lining to the terrible first half of the year you had suffered through.
A week up in the woods, hidden away from the loud sounds of the city, was the perfect way to celebrate each other. You had been hesitant for a few moments before agreeing to the time away. Not because you didn’t want to spend all your time with Bucky - you had already done that and survived. But because the cabin held a lot of bad memories along with the good.
But once you got back there, with Bucky firmly at your side, everything felt better again. There was barely a trace of your stay there anyway. Tony had thoroughly invested in new security and some much needed upgrades to the entire structure. Furniture was replaced, bookcases were replenished and as a fun bonus, a brand new jacuzzi had been installed on the deck, too.
“So, before we left earlier, Tony told me a really interesting story.”
“I don’t trust any story that starts with ‘Tony told me’ - I can already confirm whatever he said isn’t true.” Bucky returned his book to the coffee table as you headed back to the couch with a pair of champagne flutes in one hand and the large celebratory bottle of bubbly in the other.
You dropped onto the couch beside him, emptying your hands and clasping them together as you continued. “He told me all about when you two came back here in the summer.”
Bucky winced. “Listen, he doesn’t know -
You kept going. “How you spent your entire day cutting through the brush, swimming up and down the river, digging under rocks - to find my necklace.”
“Yeah, well, it’s true.”
“You told me you just happened upon it dangling off a blueberry bush!”
Bucky spoke your name very quietly as he shifted to face you on the couch. “Doll, you don’t really know how awful I felt - the way you looked at me that night, I can’t explain. I would swim up and down that river forever if it meant I never had to see that look on your face again.”
You held your breath as he looked at you. And it felt like he really was looking at you. “Well, that… that was really nice. I was going to make fun of you but now I feel terrible.”
“Hah.” Bucky let out a small laugh and lunged forward to capture you in his arms, pressing a kiss to your face. “Good. Maybe your New Year's resolution should be to be nicer to me then.”
“Yeah, maybe.” You giggled against his chest as he pulled you close. “Hey, I made a decision by the way. About that promotion at work.”
Bucky pulled back. “You’re going to take it?”
“Yeah, I think I am. They even said I could transfer to the Manhattan office if I wanted, too.” You looked up at him through your lashes, trying to get a read on his reaction. “What, uh.. What do you think about that?”
Bucky couldn’t help but grin. “Doll, that’s the best news I’ve heard all year.”
Bucky wasn’t really listening as you went on about moving and a new apartment that, of course, had to be pet friendly. Maybe Brooklyn again, or you didn’t mind the idea of the Upper West Side… It wasn’t that he didn’t care or that the idea didn’t make his heart swell. He just couldn’t believe how his life had shifted in the past six months.
When he should have been taking a week off after a grueling mission in the summer, he found you. You, the impulsive, annoying, chatterbox of a girlfriend he didn’t realize was missing from his life.
He supposed he had to say ‘thank you’ to Natasha one day.
Your voice cracked through his wandering thoughts. “Wanna move this outside to the jacuzzi? I can’t promise I won’t whine until we get in the water, though. Hey, remember the first time we were in a body of water together? The waterfall - wait, actually, remember when you threw me in the shower?”
“A shower isn’t a body of water. And I didn’t throw you.”
“You definitely threw me.”
“We have very different memories of that night, doll.”
‘This might be great for you, actually… Try not to fall in love, though.’
FIN.