Bucky flings the condom into the trash and looks at himself in the mirror. His eyes look lighter. Maybe it's the bulbs Shannon uses in the bathroom or the endorphins, or...
Nope, he thinks. He doesn't even want to think it. That's way too soon. He thinks about calling Dr. Raynor and scheduling an emergency appointment. This can't possibly be happening to him right now. It's got to be a residual feeling from tonight. That's all. The fact that he thinks about Shannon every second of every day is just a coincidence.
He splashes some water on his face and drinks out of the tap before drying his face and cleaning his hand with a towel. He tosses it into the laundry basket and goes right back to staring at himself.
"You're a mess, Barnes," he mumbles before picking up his suit jacket and shirt and carrying them into the bedroom.
Shannon is already asleep. Bucky puts his clothes on her dresser and stares at her. He hears Ace whining at the front door and sticks his head out. Ace flashes him a mournful look and paws at the hardwood.
"You need to go out, buddy?"
He slips on his jeans and his dress shirt, grabs Ace's leash, and Shannon's keys and they head downstairs. He walks Ace around the block. It's quiet. Bucky sighs as they come to a set of stairs. He feels like a bottle that's been shaken up. The confession, the sex, it rattled something inside of him - emotions he's kept buried for 80 years. He couldn't articulate them if he tried, but he feels them, bubbling and boiling in his chest. It's not anger or fear, it's something different. Shannon treated him with compassion and understanding. It's a rarity in his life. The only other people to do that were Steve, Sam, and the Wakandans. It's hard to accept that he's worthy of affection and maybe even love after everything that he's done.
Ace sniffs at the concrete and Bucky sits down, staring at him.
"Is this what life is gonna be like now, Ace?"
Ace looks up at him, his head tilted and his ears perked up.
"I don't know what I'm doing. I'm starting to feel things I haven't felt in years. I don't know where to put all of it, you know?"
The dog puts a giant paw on Bucky's leg and woofs softly. Bucky reaches out and scratches his head.
"You're a good listener, Ace. I can see why Shannon keeps you around."
They walk back to Shannon's apartment and he slides back into bed. Her arms wrap around him instinctively. Bucky smiles as she rests her head on his chest.
"Where were you?" She mumbles.
"Ace had to go out."
"Oh, thank you."
"No problem," he whispers. "Go back to sleep."
She snuggles into him, kissing his metal arm. Bucky chuckles and closes his eyes. His body begins to relax and he falls into a deep sleep.
He wakes up with the sound of gunfire ringing in the back of his skull. He screams, sitting straight up, grasping in the darkness. It feels like something is crushing his chest, pushing the air out of his lungs. Bucky gasps and chokes before he lets out another scream. His eyes are open, searching for a threat in the darkness. He's still not sure where he is. Immediately, he feels a body next to him, flinging its arms around his waist.
"Bucky!"
"NO!" He shouts, trembling. "NONONONO!"
"Bucky!"
It's her voice, pulling him back. He turns to her, eyes wide and panicked. He feels her hands on his cheeks and her forehead presses against his. Bucky feels tears spill down his cheeks, but he doesn't remember crying. His body is coated in sweat and it's vibrating with terror. He can't remember anything else about the dream, just the gunshots - and the sensation that they came from a gun he was holding. He can feel the phantom reverberation in his hand. Shannon shakes him gently.
"Bucky. It's me. I'm here."
"Sh — Shannon."
"Shhhh. It's okay. It's okay. You're in my room, in my apartment, and I'm right in front of you. It's okay. You're okay. Do you see me? Can you feel me?"
He nods as he hurtles back to earth. Moonlight pours in from the window, illuminating her. He sees her eyes, wide and filled with worry. Bucky shivers against her.
"Breathe," she whispers. "With me, okay?"
She takes a deep breath. He mimics it and holds it with her until she exhales.
"One more."
They repeat the process and his body begins to calm down.
"How do you know how to do this?" He asks.
"Because I used to get panic attacks after the snap," she replies. "It's what the Zoloft is for."
His body collapses into hers and she holds him, leaning over to turn on the lamp on the nightstand. Bucky closes his eyes, turning his head away from the light and he buries his face in her bare shoulder.
"I can't shake these nightmares," he breathes. "I was shooting. I felt it — my hand."
He holds up his right hand and feels Shannon link her fingers in his.
"That's not you anymore. Remember?"
"I remember."
"And you're safe."
"I'm safe."
She holds him like she would cradle a child, his head on her chest and his arms wound firmly around her. Bucky breathes slowly, his body eventually calming down completely. Shannon is quiet as she runs her fingers through his hair and massages his scalp.
"I just want it to stop," he mumbles.
"I know," she whispers.
He doesn't remember falling asleep and when he wakes up, Shannon is passed out with her head slumped against the headboard. Bucky looks at the clock 9am. His body aches and he's exhausted, yet wide awake at the same time. He shakes her gently.
"Shannon?"
"Hmm?"
"Do you work today?"
"No," she mumbles.
He strokes her cheek.
"Did you stay up for me?"
"Imade sure youfellasleep," she slurs. "Nomorenightmares."
He kisses her on the forehead and slides her back down onto her pillow. She rolls over, falling back into unconsciousness. Bucky crawls out of bed and puts what he's pretty sure are her sweatpants on. The bottoms of them hit his calves, but the waist fits. He stumbles into the living room and plunks down on the couch beside Ace.
"Thanks for the talk last night, buddy."
Ace yawns and stretches, resting his head on Bucky's thigh. He fiddles with the remote before glancing back down at Ace.
"You don't know how to change the channels on this thing, do you?"
Ace grunts, his eyes closing. Bucky frowns.
"Lotta help you are..."
He finally figures it out after messing with the remote for five minutes. Once the TV is on, all he has to do is press the channel button. Bucky pads over to the kitchen and puts on a pot of coffee. When he looks up, Sam is standing on the balcony waving at him. Bucky sighs. He storms toward the patio and rips the door open.
"What do you want?"
"How was last night?"
"Sam..." He sighs. Bucky knows he's not going to leave. Instead, he gestures for him to follow him. "Come on in. She's asleep. I told her about my arm —"
"Oh, good! So she won't be freaked out to see me just hanging out in her apartment."
"As long as you're gone before she wakes up," Bucky hisses. "It shouldn't be a problem."
They walk into the kitchen for some privacy. It's the furthest place from Shannon's bedroom door.
"Wait, you told her about your arm?" Sam asks.
Bucky leans up against the counter.
"Yeah. I told her everything."
"Everything?"
"Well, almost everything."
Sam looks him up and down.
"You wearing her sweatpants?"
"How did you know?"
"Because they're purple and way too short for you, man." He grins, taking off his goggles and resting them on the table. "Look! They've got rhinestones on the ass! Did you get some last night?"
Bucky looks over his shoulder to try and look at his own backside, but his shoulders are too bulky. He'll have to take Sam's word for it that he looks like a complete lunatic.
"I don't want to talk about it."
"You did!" Sam hisses. "I can see it in your face. You look different. You don't look as mean."
"I didn't look mean!"
"Yes, you did! You smile like you're the first man to ever figure out what smiling is."
"I do not!"
Sam cackles and claps him on the shoulder.
"Congratulations, man. You deserve it."
He points to the coffee pot.
"Can I get some of that?"
"This isn't a restaurant."
Sam leans in close to Bucky's face and Bucky grimaces, swatting him away.
"Moved. Your. Couch."
"How long are you going to hold that over my head?"
"Forever."
He turns around and opens Shannon's cupboards, rifling through them like he's lived here all his life. Bucky rolls his eyes. Sam thrusts a mug in his direction. Bucky sighs as the final drips of coffee settle into the pot. He pours Sam a generous cup before himself. They sip quietly.
"Why are you here?" Bucky asks.
"Didn't sleep," Sam confesses.
"In a good way or a bad way?"
"Bad. Veronica went back to her place."
"I'm sorry, man."
Sam shrugs.
"It's all right. There's something there, Buck. I just keep chasing it."
"You seem to really like her."
"Like who?" Shannon's voice echoes from the hallway.
Sam's eyes go wide and he almost drops the mug, but Bucky reaches out and catches it, thrusting it back into his hands. She pads into the kitchen in a t-shirt and shorts, yawning. Her hair is a tangled mess and she's wiping her makeup off with a cloth. When she opens her eyes, she jumps at the sight of Sam in his Falcon uniform.
"Jesus! What the fu — Sam?!"
Sam grimaces and waves.
"Heeeeey, Shannon. How's it going?"
"What are —" She sighs and turns to Bucky. "You have superhero friends."
She looks down at his pants.
"Are those mine?"
He shrugs and matches Sam's expression.
"I'm full of surprises?"
Shannon laughs and points at the coffee maker.
"Can I get in on that?"
Bucky nods and pours her a generous amount. She leans on the counter beside him and points at Sam's suit.
"Nice bird costume."
Sam thrusts a finger in Bucky's face.
"You told her to say that, didn't you?"
"I didn't!"
They stare at each other, Shannon's eyes bouncing between them as either party refuses to blink. She sighs.
"Are you guys really doing this right now?"
Neither of them answers her, they just open their eyes wider and thrust their heads forward. Bucky squints. He's going to win this one. He's lost two out of three. He has to tie it up.
"Do I have to watch this all day?" Shannon asks.
Bucky is just focused on making Sam blink. Shannon slams her hand on the counter.
"Stop it! Both of you! Why are you like this?!"
They both blink and retreat, sipping their coffee. She shakes her head.
"Unbelievable. I thought you were best friends."
"We are —"
"No," Bucky says simply.
Shannon laughs.
"Clearly, you have a lot of stuff to work out." She gestures to Sam with a flick of her head. "How was the rest of your night?"
"How was yours?" Sam asks, wiggling his eyebrows.
Shannon smirks.
"I asked you first."
He sighs.
"Fine. With Veronica and I, it's complicated."
"Understood," she replies.
Sam hangs his head.
"She was my high school sweetheart and I've been trying to get her back for a long time now."
Shannon clutches her chest.
"That's so sweet!"
Sam waves her off with one hand, trying to hide a huge smile. His phone buzzes and he checks it, sighing.
"I gotta go." He points at Bucky. "I'll be back tomorrow. We're doing lunch."
"Sure," Bucky says.
Shannon throws her arms around Sam, much to Bucky's surprise.
"Thank you for introducing us," she says softly, but just loud enough so that Bucky can hear. He flushes at first, but frowns as Sam looks up at him, hugging her tightly. She pulls away and her face lights up.
"Hey, why don't you guys have lunch at my work? You can eat for free."
Sam's eyes go wide.
"I like this one, Buck. Tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow."
Bucky rolls his eyes as Sam fist bumps him before draining his coffee cup and taking off from the back porch. Shannon watches him with amusement and turns around.
"Does he always drop by like that?"
"Pretty much, yeah."
She kisses him. His whole body tingles and she hugs him tightly, squeezing him against her. Bucky squeezes back gently.
"Thank you for last night."
"What do you mean?" Bucky asks.
"For trusting me enough to tell me that stuff when you could have just left."
"Well, you were bound to find out sooner or later," he replies. "I had no idea how I was going to tell you, so..."
"Happy accident?"
He smiles.
"Definitely."
She kisses him again, softly and slowly. Bucky groans and slides his fingers through her slightly tangled hair.
"Do you want breakfast?"
"Sure, but one of these days, I should cook for you."
"You cook?"
"Just oatmeal."
She scrunches her nose up and laughs in the way that he loves. Bucky laughs softly.
"Maybe let me cook. What do you feel like?"
"Anything is good. What do you have?"
"I can do bacon, eggs, and toast."
"That sounds great."
"Okay. Sit down, big guy. You want more coffee?"
"Sure."
He sits at the kitchen table, watching her buzz around the kitchen. She cracks eggs and cooks bacon while she plays music from her phone and dances in between sips of coffee. She really is a bad dancer. Totally offbeat and off rhythm, but it's cute. Bucky realizes that she looks kind of like that redhead that he spent three bucks trying to win a stuffed bear for and failed miserably. Dot. God, he liked her. She scrunched her nose up when she laughed the same way that Shannon does. Maybe he has a type and he just never knew it.
He feels that feeling again, the same one he felt last night. His palm gets clammy and he wipes it off on his pants. What the hell is happening to him? Bucky pushes it down and takes a deep breath. She turns to him and smiles.
"How are you feeling this morning?"
"Tired," he confesses.
"Me too."
"Sorry for keeping you up."
Shannon shrugs and bites her fingernail.
"It's not your fault, Bucky. You can't control the stuff that happens while you sleep."
He would give anything for these fucking nightmares to stop.
"I wish I could. You know, the last time I slept peacefully was in Wakanda? Before that, they had to put me into cryo-freeze."
Shannon leans against the counter, cradling her coffee mug against her chest while the food sizzles behind her.
"Does therapy help with the nightmares?"
He shakes his head as she serves him up a plate of bacon, sunny side up eggs, and toast with raspberry jam. Bucky looks down and smiles as Shannon sits across from him.
"What?"
"My mom used to make this for me every Sunday."
Shannon sits down with her own identical plate of food and snaps off a piece of crispy bacon.
"Were you close with your parents?"
He nods.
"I miss them every day."
She reaches across the table and squeezes his hand gently.
"I know how that feels." She pauses. "What were they like? If you don't mind me asking."
He shakes his head.
"No, it's okay. My dad was strict, but not too strict. Everything had to be clean. Spotless. Probably something he picked up from his army training because it's definitely not genetic. My sister and I were slobs. He was distant and kind of closed off, but if we needed him, he was right there."
"He sounds like you," Shannon teases.
Bucky chuckles.
"Yeah. Yeah, maybe."
"And your mom?"
His chest swells at the memory of her bustling around the house, of her warmth and generosity, and the way she always used to kiss him on the cheek before he left for school even though he insisted that he hated it. She left big lipstick marks that Bucky could have to swipe off with the sleeve of his shirt before he stepped foot inside of the school. It always made him mad, but he would give anything to hug her again.
"My mom was... amazing. She really loved us, and she was so in love with my dad, it was honestly kind of gross."
Shannon laughs.
"My parents are the same way — well, they were before my dad got sick."
"How is he?"
Shannon sighs, tears gathering at the corners of her eyes. Bucky immediately regrets asking the question. He just can't seem to keep his mouth shut.
"Sorry."
"No. It's okay. He's not great. My mom left me a voicemail this morning giving me an update. It's just the natural progression of the disease." Her lip quivers and she takes a sip of coffee to distract herself. "It's stolen so much of him."
"I can relate to that," Bucky whispers.