Chapter 19: Bucky Barnes - Cinnamon Buns (Part IV)

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"You've looked so conflicted every time. I couldn't tell if you hated being touched... or if you thought I was going to hurt you."

I could only lean into her. Muscles uncoiling. Sinking bodily against her.

She gave a soft laugh. Arms squeezing just a little tighter. Tucking me under her chin. Long hair a curtain blocking out the rest of the world.

"I'm not going to hit you, Bucky.... Unless you're on fire. That's a thing when people are on fire, right...? I'm probably dumb enough to try to slap a fire dead in a panic.... And maybe while pushing you out of the way of something... which I'd probably just bounce off you?"

My eyes fell shut. Half hiding my face with the seat cushions just to the right of her.

Enjoying the moment while it lasted.

But she didn't stop. Fingers still dancing through my hair.

"Bickiieee!"

"B-uh-cky."

"Bickiie!"

"Irene. Say it with me. B-uh-cky."

"Bickie!!"

"Becky, Irene. He's Bucky. I'm B-eh-cky."

"Bickiiiieee!!!" A flash of the little baby in pink, arms flailing with a wooden rattle in hand. Hair in pigtails.

"Come on, you two. James is sick. Let him rest."

"Yes, Mom!" chirped so cheerfully.

I couldn't see what was happening. I could hear footsteps. I could smell the illness. I could even feel the wet pillow under my head and the dripping towel on my forehead. But I couldn't see anything.

No matter how I tried.

I couldn't make out her face.

The bed sunk. A hand supported my head. The pillow under my head changed to a dry one. A towel wiped over my face, soaking up all the water.

"The girls made a mess. How is there so much water? Did they pour a bucket on your head?"

"They were only trying to – ahchoo! To help."

"My dearest adorable children."

A pair of lips pressed against my forehead. A hand ran through my hair, combing through the wet strands.

I tried to cling onto the memory. To find a face. The face of my mom. But there was nothing more. Just her warm hand on my head. Until nothing came of it.

I pried my eyes opened, turning my head to look up at Valeriy only to have her hand land in the middle of my face.

"Oops. Sorry," she laughed, stroking my cheek with a thumb. "When should you be sleeping? Eve has you on a staggered cycle, yeah?"

I gave a little nod. Peeling myself off the couch. Straightening up to check the time. "Nineteen minutes."

Staring blankly at the tablet screen, I couldn't begin to sort through the jumbled mess tumbling inside me. The lightness of recalling a memory. The confusion of not being able to see my mother's face in any of my hazy memories. The heaviness of the hand having left.

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