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She startled herself awake, clammy chest and limbs sticking to her comforter. Her whole body was damp. Her chest, heaving. Jesus Christ. Her heart felt like it was just below her skin, rather than guarded behind a cage of bone.
To her dismay, the nightmares have been flaring up recently. Sometimes she didn't remember them, and just woke up scared or upset. But other times she did remember — parts at least.
Something happened high up in the government... the president or someone, she couldn't recall. The government and all order had collapsed and everything fell into chaos. In the dream, she was running through the street - towards something or away from something, she wasn't sure. Maybe both. But then the street wasn't the street, and it was a sort of open grass land. What she remembered most was the fear. And the toll on her body; her lungs burned in the dream.
She sat up and wiped the leftover tears from her face. God, waking up from these were so taxing, both on her body and her mind. With these nightmares, her body was having a fight or flight response of an animal being hunted while laying completely still. It was like waking up from a panic attack in her sleep. Or waking up from an emotional intensity equivalent to a breakdown. She's woken up from immense sadness, and occasionally anger. But mostly fear.
She also didn't talk to anyone about it - anyone professional, that is. Yes, she was a professional. Yes, she knew exactly what she would say to a patient experiencing the same things as her. However, she had become increasingly isolated during the past few years. And everything in her head was so much. It was a lot, and it felt safer inside her head. It felt like it was secure, like the cap on a bottle was screwed on and all the carbonation inside wasn't going to explode, bubble out, and make a mess.
She knew it was ironic, but that didn't change her lack of action on the matter.
A bit after waking up and calming herself down from the nightmare, she noticed an ache in the back of her head that was growing stronger. The head pain had been at a minimum lately. She wondered why it might be returning. She didn't have any injury, and she had been sleeping fine. She slept in pretty late, but it was only last night she was up late... talking to James. James. His image in her head provoked a smile in spite of her unpleasant awakening.
She thought he might actually be the most attractive person she had ever seen. Everything about him was... perfect - his face, his body... She remembered on the "date" that wasn't actually a date, she couldn't look at him for too long without worrying that her face was going to heat up.
In addition to that was this weird wanting she had. When she woke up, she wanted to talk to him about the nightmare; wanted to confide in him. Obviously, she thought it odd considering she only recently met him. But, that didn't make it go away.
She had kind of settled into aloneness and a lack of relationship with anyone. She was lonely and she didn't try to pretend that she wasn't. She thought she had gotten used to it, accepted it, but... damn. She might reconsider.
—
Bucky woke up feeling quite rested. Until his brain turned on and he had a single thought. Falling asleep to her voice made him realize how much he missed it. And it was cosmically wrong that he didn't wake up with her.
He was so frustrated. It was supposed to be okay now! She had to leave Wakanda and it was horrible. Then he had to fight against Thanos and it was horrible. Then he disappeared.
Even though he knew it was years for her while it was only a second for him, the years had passed. He was back now. They could be together and not have to worry about the other stuff. He really thought the hard part was over. Technically they're together now but... it's like 'the other stuff' never even happened. Like their history didn't exist.
He laid in his bed, sulking. They were back in each others lives now, but under conditions he never even considered. He knew she didn't remember him, but the rest of her was still there. It is right to love her even though she doesn't love him? Would it be wrong to try to get her to fall in love with him again? Lots of things crossed his mind.
He felt like he waited so long to finally see her again but she's waited five years. He couldn't even imagine it. Five years without her. Alone. The thought made him miss her. Would it be weird if he showed up at her apartment again?
Would it be weird if he sat her down and explained every detail of them that she didn't remember. Would it be weird if he grabbed her hands and pleaded: It's me, it's Bucky. Don't you remember? Please remember. He just wanted her back so bad. It was almost tormenting - the way she was right in front of him but still somehow not. It was she was on the other side of a glass door; she was there but he couldn't get to her.
This, of course, was coupled with insecurity and worry. Sure, she loved him once, but does that mean she could love him again? If she didn't, would that just confirm all the bad things he thought of himself? What if he actually wasn't capable of being loved? What if this time around, she was scared of the Winter Soldier. The thought of her being afraid of him almost gave him chest pain.
He was also dying to, but also terrified of, finding out what happened to her during the blip. Five years is a long time, and a lot could have happened. He didn't know if he wanted to find out who or what stole her mind from her. He didn't know if he could handle finding out that the same things that happened to him - happened to her too.
He stressed himself out and there was only person he wanted to talk to, one person he sought comfort in. He told himself that he was going to give her space for a couple days so she didn't think he was overbearing.
—
"Hello?"
"Hey."
He exhaled at the sound of her voice. My girl.
"Haven't heard from you in a couple days. How are you?" he asked.
"I'm alright... Um, I was feeling a bit lonely, though. Would you wanna meet up later?"
I wanna spend the rest of my life with you and then some, he thought but didn't say.
"Yeah, of course! I'd love to," he actually said.
She could hear the smile in his voice and it made her smile.
"Oh, great. You can come over here and we could get dinner - like, takeout or something - and just relax or watch something. Nothing crazy. I think I have some wine, too."
Sounds a little like a date but he was not going to question it.
"Yeah, that sounds amazing. Yeah. I'll be there."
"Okay," she grinned. "I'll see you later."
And so later came.
She was a mix of nervous and excited. She hadn't had anyone in her house for a while, but he wasn't just anyone.
The knock on the door startled her, as it wasn't accustomed to guests waiting to be let in. She scurried over and opened it.
Immediately his face lit up. "Hey!"
"Hi," she smiled. Jesus Christ, he looked so good. Like, so good. "Thanks for picking up the food by the way."
"Yeah, yeah. Of course. You look..." he glanced down and back up to get the whole picture, "really great."
With a bashful grin, she looked away.
"I'm not super dressed up, but," she laughed, returning eye contact, "thank you."
He could only smile at her. "Of course."
She realized that they were just standing still in her doorway, but his eyes. She wanted a closer look at them.
"Um- come in! Come in," she moved out of the way. "Make yourself comfortable, please."
He walked in and set a couple bags on her table. He pulled out a bottle.
"I got this, too," he held up a bottle of vodka. "More as a gift, I guess, but if you want to drink it tonight we can do that."
"Is that Belvedere?" she asked. "That's my favorite!"
"Oh, wow," he grinned. "Lucky guess, I guess."
It wasn't lucky. He remembered her telling him that when they were back in Wakanda. He was hoping it might spike a memory or two.
"Well, thank you. Here, I'll put it in the fridge so it's cooled if we decide to have some."
He held out the bottle for her to take. She tried to ignore how big his arm was... and the fact that he was still wearing gloves inside.
She took the bottle. "Still got your gloves on?"
"Oh..." he looked down at his hands. "Yeah. I have some... circulation issues."
"Ohhh," she closed the fridge. "That makes sense. You run cold?"
More like he runs hot. The serum makes his metabolism insane. She used to make jokes about it because when they'd sleep together he would heat up the whole bed.
"Yeah. Cold hands."
He didn't like lying to her, but he wasn't sure what the alternative was. He tried not to feel bad about it since they were little lies. He was just trying not to poke a hole in her reality. He knows how disorienting that can be.
But they ate and talked and everything was fine. Actually, Bucky was having a great time. He didn't wait as long as five years, but he missed her over the time he did wait. Missed just talking to her. Though he wished he could touch her, even just grab her hand. He wouldn't dare let himself think about the other stuff.
"You know what? I'm feeling crazy," she declared. "I'm gonna try some of the Belvedere. Do you want some?"
"Well I can't let you drink alone."
"I'm bad influencing you," she joked, opening the fridge.
She unscrewed the cap and went to smell the vodka before pouring it into the glasses. Immediately she put the bottle down and took a step back.
Bucky noticed the abruptness.
"You alright?" he questioned from the table.
"I just got really nauseous all of the sudden."
Nauseous along with a horrific feeling that just manifested in her brain with no warning. Her chest felt heavy. Where did this come from?
"Oh. Are you- Do you think you're gonna..."
"I might. I don't know. I'm sorry."
"It's okay, it's alright," he stood up. "Do you need anything? Water or something?"
"No, just give it a minute. I think it might go away."
"Okay," he said, meekly.
He just stood, a couple feet from her, feeling useless. He wanted to comfort her or help her or do something.
While she was trying to breathe through it, the dull ache that had been only a little sore during the day started bursting through her skull. Her hands snapped up to grip her head.
Bucky's stomach dropped. Instantly he was at her side.
"Y/N?! Y/N, what happened?!"
She squinted her eyes shut and shook her head.
"Idunno," she spit out, too distracted by her head to give a better answer.
With the pain blaring, she dropped onto her knees, one hand on the back of her head, the other planted on the floor to steady herself. Without hesitation, he was on his knees right next to her. He rubbed his hand on her back, a feeble attempt to soothe her.
"What can I do?" he implored, desperate for anything that would make her feel better.
She couldn't reply. Tears prickled at her eyes and the fell out despite her opposition to cry in front of someone she wasn't close to.
"Oh, honey," he said under his breath, helpless.
He took off one of his gloves and placed his hand on top of hers, above the floor tile.
Then it stopped.
She inhaled then exhaled slowly and deeply, reveling in the lack of pain. Her other hand fell from the back of her head as her breathing slowed, and settled on the floor next to the other. Then she realized.
She turned but wasn't prepared for her face to be inches from his. His eyes, this close. His everything this close. Her breath halted as his eyes bore into her. He looked... scared, and that brought her guilt.
"I'm sorry," she whispered.
"No, no, no," the un-gloved hand extended to hold the side of her face. "Please don't be sorry."
Almost reflexively, she reached up and held his wrist. She just stared at him. His worried expression made her worried. For him.
"Are you okay?" he asked.
The words didn't work. She just nodded. But then her eyes betrayed her and glanced down at his lips. Almost compulsively, like she didn't even know it was going to happen until it did. She brought them quickly back up, hoping he didn't notice and confused as to how she let herself do that.
His expression changed ever so subtly — to something quizzical. Like he was trying to figure something out.
"I'm sorry if I freaked you out," she said.
"No, if anything I should be apologizing because I brought the vodka. I'm real sorry if it... kinda triggered this. I never woulda wanted that."
"I don't even know how the vodka could. I like it and I never had a bad experience with it in college or anything that would give me taste aversion."
He wondered if something happened with the vodka that she didn't remember but her senses did.
"Whether the vodka was the cause or not, I'm sorry that happened. But I'm glad you're alright."
"Are you?"
So worried about him. She didn't know why. Just the frightened expression on his face ignited this strangely powerful feeling within her.
"Yes!" he leaned forward just a bit to emphasize his words. "I'm totally fine, please don't feel bad. I was worried but not 'freaked out.' I promise."
She smiled modestly, re-establishing her hold on his arm and finding herself very much enjoying the feeling of his skin.
Almost in response to her re-grip of his arm, Bucky adjusted his hand placement on the side of her head, making sure his thumb gently grazed over the skin behind her ear.
On her face grew a tiny little smile.
Bucky remembered she used to love when he held her face in his hands. Such a delicate gesture. She only really let him do it in soft, intimate moments.
With no conscious control of her own body, she leaned forward. Only about half a centimeter. There was a little delay, but then he did the same. And then a little more, and a little more. And then she was kissing who she declared to be the most attractive man she had ever seen and was actively trying not to moan while doing it.
Her fingers softly curled at the nape of his neck, and her palm pressed up against his chest, feeling his heartbeat. His hand moved from cupping the side of her face to firmly grasping the back of her head. Earlier she was nauseous, but now she was dizzy. She felt like she was melting.
Bucky wasn't much better. Finally he got to touch her, got to feel her, got to hold her. It felt like stepping into warm sunlight after months in the frigidity of a shadow. He moved his lips as if to pull from her every inch of sorrow and grief and heartache and say I'm sorry. Sorry for all the things that happened to you when I wasn't here. For any hand that has hurt you, for any hands that weren't mine.
Both of her hands migrated to holding the back of his head where it met the base of his neck. She held on tight, trying pull him closer if that was even possible. She wasn't sure why she felt such a sense of urgency.
They pulled away for a brief moment to catch their breath.
"Bucky," she exhaled before pressing into him once more.
With a jolt, he pulled away, a bewildered expression materializing on his face.
"What?" she asked. "What's wrong?"
"You-..."
About a million and one things ran through his mind.
"Did I do something? I'm sorry-"
"No! No, it's okay. You just... you said Bucky..."
"Oh. I'm sorry, is that... not okay?"
"No, it's good. It's more than good, I just-... Where did that come from?"
She thought about it for a second but really didn't have an answer. Her confusion morphed into what looked like distress. Like, where did that come from?
"I don't know..."
The more she thought about it the more her demeanor changed. She seemed nervous, almost alarmed now.
He grabbed both of her hands. "It's alright. It's okay. I'm sorry I said anything. Don't worry about it."
She looked at him, tense. Why did I say that? I didn't even think it, it just came out.
"I..." she huffed. "I'm confused."
He squeezed her hands. "It's okay."
I know how you feel, he wanted to say.
"I don't know what's happening to me."
He was almost mad. At whom he didn't know. Whoever was responsible for the way her mind was shaken up like his. The way her memories were stolen and the way she had the same lost look on her face that he recognized in himself.
"What do you mean?"
"I've been having so many issues lately and I don't know why. That thing that just happened with my head, it's happened before and it's been happening. And my nightmares. And I don't even know what that reaction was with the vodka. I feel like I'm going crazy."
He hoped in the deepest parts of him that whatever her nightmares were weren't the way his used to be.
"You're definitely not crazy. I know that at least."
She just nodded, clearly not convinced of his sentiment.
"That is your name, though?"
"What?"
"Bucky. It's your name?"
"It is. How did you know?"
"I don't know. I just look at you now and that's what I see. That's what comes up in my brain. I just feels like it makes sense. Maybe a lucky guess."
Damn right it was lucky. But it definitely was not a guess. He didn't ask what else might come up in her brain when she looks at him, too afraid there might not be anything else.
But there was hope. She knew his name! That had to count for something. Maybe he had to try to draw things out of her, make some memories resurface. She once helped him get out of his own head. Perhaps he could do the same.
- - -
IM BACK!
WHAT DO WE THINK?
.