Once night falls and Bucky is sure that Steve is sleeping soundly, he slips out his window and into the night. Masked once again, and hooded as well, Bucky talks to everyone he can, collecting data through the night. The sun is about to rise when Bucky climbs back in the apartment and climbs into bed. Information spins in his mind as he drifts off to sleep. His dreams taste like the blood of Hydra.
Bucky wakes a bit late, but Steve, sitting on the couch talking to Sam, doesn't question it. He pulls a chair over, straddling the back and stuffing a bagel in his mouth. The other two men are talking about a baseball game from last week. Bucky eats quietly, awaiting nightfall.
The next week, Bucky spends his days in a haze, and his nights in the shadows. He takes out every lead he can find, but not before he drains them of information. At night, he isn't Bucky. At night the Winter Soldier reaps his vengeance so that Bucky can sleep soundly in the wee hours of the morning.
He still goes to visit Catherine. Sometimes, he shows up at her work to get coffee. Sometimes she invites him home.
"You look tired, James. Are you okay?" she asks one afternoon. They're curled up on the couch watching a movie. He isn't paying much attention, and she notices.
"I'm fine. Just tired," he reassures her, pulling her closer and placing a gentle kiss on the top of her bronze hair. She smells like flowers, and he lets his nose rest on her head.
"Are you not sleeping well?" she asks, pulling back to peer at him worriedly, studying his eyes. His eyes are where she has learned that she can always find the truth.
"No," he answers simply.
"Do you want to sleep here tonight? Maybe having someone with you will help," she offers, stroking his coffee colored hair.
"I—" he stops himself. He wants to so badly. He wants to fall asleep to the scent of flowers, but he has work to do.
"It's fine," she says with a small smile. "You don't have to. Just let me know if you ever want to."
He pulls her tight to his chest, mumbling a soft thank you. He's so grateful she found him. She's been good for him. She encouraged him to find Steve. She's another person he wants to be better for. He needs as many good people in his life as he can get. He lets himself be drawn into the movie, some chick flick that, of course, he's never heard of. It's sweet, but it's slow, and he's tired. It isn't long before he dozes off, snoring softly against the top of Catherine's head. She smiles, relaxing against him.
Around midnight, Catherine is awoken by a persistent buzzing. She yawns and stretches. Bucky is slumped against the back of the couch, and it's his phone, buzzing from its spot on the floor.
"Hello," she asks, not bothering to read the caller id. Steve is the only one who has Bucky's number.
"Hey Catherine. Bucky's at your house?" There is a hint of concern in his voice.
"Yeah. We fell asleep during the movie. You want me to send him to you?" she asks. She understands Steve's protectiveness. It's sweet really.
"No, that's just fine. I don't think he's been sleeping well. Let him rest."
"Alright, bye," she whispers, folding closed the little flip phone. Bucky wanted something simple. She lays it on the floor and goes to lie back against Bucky, but he's starting to stir.
"I fell asleep," he mutters, sounding more distraught than she'd like.
"Yeah. I thought you looked tired, so I let you rest."
He needs to go. He has people to take care of, people that will do horrible things with every day they have. The last week has made him tired, though. He gazes down at her hopeful eyes, full of compassion, and he caves. He stands, scooping her up and carrying her to the bedroom, laying her down and curling around her. She sighs happily, and it makes him smile.
"Goodnight, Catherine," he mumbles into her hair.
"Goodnight, James," she whispers back.
