Kiss Me

Protect Me

I reached into my bedside drawer and pulled out one of the knives I had kept hidden from the rest of them. Who knew I could be so damn good at infiltrating The Avengers and Stark Tower?

I stood from my bed and crept over to where Steve laid, sound asleep. I brought the knife up into the air above my head with both hands and began to swing it down at his chest at full force. Right when it hit him, as his body jolted upon impact and his eyes shot open to meet my cold, dead gaze... I woke up.

I looked over at his bed, which remained occupied and undisturbed. Nightmares like this seemed to relentlessly find their way into my head, no matter what I try to do to stop them.

I sat up and looked out the window at the city which seemed to have fallen quiet despite the notion that it 'never sleeps'. I knew I couldn't stay here all night and look out the window hoping to forget, nor could I just try to go back to sleep. Neither would solve any part of the problem which consisted of (a) my inability to sleep undisturbed by night traumas and (b) my inability to fall back to sleep after having been woken up by one of said traumas.

I stood and threw the sheets over my bed as I walked quietly over to the door, trying not to wake Steve. I knew if he stirred, he'd just worry about me... and all for nothing, too.

I managed to get out of the room without him even making a sound (this really did prove to be the only scenario where my stealth training came in handy). I made my way over to the kitchen without the lights, too, so that no one would wake up and worry about me because, trust me, I was fine. I've dealt with this kinda stuff - my incredibly harsh imagination - before.

I started boiling some water so that I might be able to make hot cocoa for myself just as I did for Steve and I all those years ago at our small place in Brooklyn Heights. I added the fresh cocoa and sugar from the pantry to taste and suddenly, it was perfect. I poured it into a black mug (one that had my name on it and everything) and began the short walk over to the windows.

Before I could make it over there, though, I heard something metallic hit the ground hard and make a loud, unmistakable noise. I spun around to see what the Hell was going on, when I saw none other than Tony Stark in his Iron Man suit standing barely four feet from me with his hand extended and the weapon on it pointed directly at my face.

I dropped the mug of hot cocoa on the ground as I heard his suit power up and saw his palm and chest begin to glow. Dear God, he was going to shoot me, wasn't he?

We both simultaneously looked to the right when the lights turned on and Steve came running over in nothing but his red white and blue boxers.

"What the Hell is going on out here?" Steve asked as Stark backed up and, eventually, stepped out of the suit, revealing that he had been in pajamas too. We both looked at him like he'd gone mad because, to put it simply, no one in their right mind would have done something this extreme because they didn't trust someone.

"I- Jarvis woke me in my sleep to tell me that there was someone roaming about in the kitchen looking through my stuff," he started. "I thought it was an intruder."

"Bullshit," Steve retorted.

"Not true, I really don't see how what I'm saying could be construed as a lie," he went on. "The only way I could think to approach a situation like this was in my suit."

"Are you out of your damn mind?" Steve replied, furious at the mistake.

"No, it could have been anyone," he defended himself. "How was I to know it wasn't someone dangerous if I didn't come out here prepared?"

"Tony, you have cameras everywhere," Steve continued. "You and I both know you could have easily checked them and seen it was Bucky before storming out here like a crazy person."

"It's dark out, Rogers, it ain't that simple."

"Still. I know you've got night vision in the suit. Why, then, did you nearly shoot him when you could clearly see it wasn't someone potentially dangerous?"

"How the Hell was I to know that he wasn't potentially dangerous?" He yelled at us.

"Bucky?" I asked, confused at what he was getting at. "What, exactly, are you implying?"

"I mean to say that the man has committed some serious crimes against humanity. You can't just expect me to invite him into my home and then live constantly with my guard dow-"

"Goddamnit Tony take it back!"

"Steve, it's alright," I said to him and really meaning it.

"No Buck, it's not," he replied. "He knows as well as everyone else that you weren't in control over what you were doing."

"How am I supposed to be able to trust someone like him, Rogers, hmm? He killed my parents without a second thought. Hell, he killed an innumerable amount of people with no regret, worry or hesitation. How do I know he won't snap back into that mentality again in the blink of an eye?"

"It's called trust, Tony! You've got to learn to accept things as they are and get on with the rest of your life. For fucks sake move on, okay? It's over. You trust the rest of us, now I think it's time you give the whole 'Bucky situation' you've created in your mind a rest. There's nothing to be worried about. I've got this," Steve assured him. "C'mon, Buck, we're going to bed."

With that, we walked back to our room together as Stark made his way back to his. That whole hissy fit sure as Hell didn't help me relax to the point of being able to fall asleep, not by any means.

But at least, now, I know how much Steve cares about me and to what lengths he'll go to protect me.

~ James_BuchananBarnes ~