Whatever It Takes

Chapter 42 - I Dream Of You

Bucky stands awkwardly, watching you in the kitchen as you whip up something simple. Desperate to help, but not knowing where his place should be; eventually you tell him to just sit at the table. "It's not much," you sigh as you place a bowl of pasta down in front of him. "But it'll do." You head back to the kitchen, clearing up the mess you had made, while also just cleaning in general. The place wasn't filthy, it just needed a bit more care.

"Aren't you eating?" He asks, watching you carefully. You shake your head as you clean the pots and pans.

"I'm one of those annoying people who eats while they cook," You laugh a little while you start putting everything away. It wasn't a complete lie, you had taken a little, but were more concerned about feeding him; seeing what little food he had around had worried you. When you turn to look at him, he's still sitting in the same position, not touching his plate. "Is something wrong?"

Shaking his head slightly, realising that he had been daydreaming, he looks down at the plate and then back up at you. "Sorry, no." He gives the tiniest of smiles, hinting that something is. "Just still a little lost I guess." You give him a sympathetic smile before returning to what you were doing. "Could you sit?" He asks, pulling you back to him. "You're kinda making me nervous."

Wiping your hands on the towel, you pull a chair over and sit across from him. Once you do, he finally starts to eat; small bites at first, still unsure of himself around you, before diving into it hungrily. "Slow down champ, you're going to hurt yourself." Suddenly he stops eating, looking at you with a strange expression on his face. Getting up, he marches over to the cupboard, grabbing a bowl and fork, before returning and scooping half of what he had left into the bowl.

"Eat with me," he asks, sliding the bowl over to you. "Please?" You simply nod and join in, not realising that you were actually hungry until you started to eat. You both sit in silence while you eat, just focusing on the food. "Thank you." He whispers when he's done.

"No need," you smile, lifting the empty bowls and heading to the sink.

"Can I help?" He asks, surprisingly quick on his feet, standing right at your back. You nod towards the towel sitting next to you on the counter.

"I wash, you dry?" He nods, before standing next to you, achingly close, while you wash up. The homely action of the two of you cleaning together surprisingly so natural, yet somehow extremely unnatural for both of you.

"Can you erm," he pauses, nervous to ask the question. "Can you show me how to cook that sometime? I don't really know what I'm doing." Your heart warms at the question, to which you simply nod. Once your done cleaning up, you lean your back against the counter, watching him, before your eye is drawn to the window. You hadn't realised how much time you had spent here, but the glorious sunshine day had turned to night.

"It's getting late," You smile, reaching over for your bag. "I should go find a hotel or something." His hand grips your arm out of nowhere.

"No," He barks, clearing his throat instantly; regretting his angry tone. "I mean, you could," He looks around at the barren apartment, ashamed. "You could stay here." Not wanting to argue with him, seeing how pent up he was you put your bag back down. He lets go of your arm, the red mark left from how tight he grabbed you etched into his mind, making you pull down your sleeve so he doesn't have to look at it.

"Ok." You give him a sad smile. "I'll take the couch."

"No, I could..."

"No offence Barnes, I mean Bucky," You laugh, looking over at the tiny two-seater couch. "But I don't think you'll fit. Besides," You look down, remembering the nightmare that had woken him earlier. "You probably need more sleep than I do." Wanting to argue back, he simply puts his head down, nodding at your remark.