Reaching Out | Bucky Barnes

32 | Friday, August 14th

I wake up in a soft bed and immediately push myself to sit up.

Where am I?

It takes a few seconds for my thoughts to unjumble, and I rub my forehead in frustration.

I'm home.

I notice I'm alone in the bed. The black-out curtains have been pulled open, letting in the morning light.

Where's Bucky?

My stomach churns and I look over to the bathroom.

Empty.

He must be downstairs.

I let out a yawn and rub my eyes.

I'm exhausted...

I look to the clock on the bedside table

10:09 AM.

What time did I go to bed last night? It couldn't have been that late...

I'm also starving.

I should have had breakfast with everyone, I barely saw them yesterday...

A feeling of discomfort and nausea passes over me, and I grip the sheets, taking a deep breath.

Maybe I should ask if anyone has any meds...

My head gets light, and I fall back onto the pillows, spots clouding my vision. I focus on my breathing and the feeling eventually passes, so when I'm sure I'm okay, I push myself back up and swing my legs over the bed gently. I wander to the door and across the hall, slipping into my closet to change into sweats before finding a pair of slippers at the back of my closet.

"I brought breakfast," Bucky calls from outside my door and I pause, lightheadedness returning. "Can I come in?"

Nausea stops me from speaking and I need to grip the closet's doorframe to steady myself.

"You in there?"

I try to focus on my breathing and not the rolling of my stomach as the door opens, Bucky walking in with a small plate and a steaming mug.

His face turns to confusion as he sees me. "Are you okay?"

Bad.

My hands begin to shake as he steps closer, and before I can think, my body reacts, forcing me away from him.

"What's wrong? Are you okay?" His voice is like sandpaper in my brain, and I take a step further into my closet, shutting my eyes and taking a deep breath to try and stop the absolute lightning storm going on in my head. "Doll, what's wro—" Hands take hold of my face and my eyes fly open.

I throw myself backwards against the shelves, heart hammering in my chest while my body erupts in shakes. There is such a deep discomfort across my body that my eyes begin to water.

"Y/N, it's me, you're safe. You're home," he repeats the familiar words, but they make me want to be sick. My knees buckle and I drop to the ground. "Y/N!" Bucky crouches in front of me, arms flying towards me.

"Don't."

"What?"

"Don't touch me. Please. Go."

"What?" His face turns confused and hurt.

"I need you to go. Please," I gasp out.

"Y/N, what's going on?" He asks, hand reaching for my arm.

I reach out mentally and freeze his hand midair. His eyes look from me to his hand in shock. "Get out. Please."

His mouth opens and I brace myself for the gritting pain in my head, but he closes his mouth and nods silently. His eyes are pained as he stands and turns, but I drop my gaze to the floor, unable to look at him any longer. I let out a shaky breath and rub my face, scrubbing at the tears on my cheeks. I pull my knees up, resting my head against them and focusing on slowing my breathing.