Chapter Eight
Sharon managed almost two whole hours of sleep in her own bed after spending the night with Bucky before she woke to the smell of frying bacon.
She pulled a sweater on over her pajamas and padded down the stairs to the kitchen where she found Captain America frying the last of the bacon he'd found in the refrigerator and beating something in a mixing bowl.
A sleepy Sam sat at the counter, a mug of coffee in his hands, and a stoic Bucky sat quietly at the kitchen table with a Sudoku book in front of him.
She caught Sam's eye and looked toward Bucky. "I picked it up at the airport," he said by way of explanation. "Bucky seems to get a lot more out of it than I could."
"How long has everyone been up?" she asked, noting that Bucky was dressed but both Sam and Steve were in the sweats and tees they'd slept in.
"Steve woke at the butt-crack of dawn, most likely, and Bucky and I have only been up about a half-hour," Sam answered. He gestured to the coffeemaker on the counter behind him. "The pot's fresh if you're interested."
She was. Very. Though she'd learned to survive with little sleep in med school and then as a SHIELD agent, that didn't mean she had to do it without coffee.
"Good beans," Sam said after taking a sip.
"My father's weakness," Sharon explained, pouring herself a cup. "He studied in Brazil for a semester and became a coffee snob. I'll drink just about anything - and did in school - but that doesn't mean I'll ignore the perfectly good bag he left in the cupboard."
"Your dad's a doctor, too, right?" Sam asked, settling back into his chair while Steve busied himself at the stove.
"Pediatrics," she confirmed with a nod as she took the seat at the table with Bucky. "He and my mom had high hopes I'd follow in their footsteps."
"The glamorous life of a SHIELD agent was just too exciting to pass up, huh?"
"Not all that glamorous but it was rewarding," she said. "And I always admired the work Aunt Peggy did, even the things no one knew she had a hand in."
"And you don't think being a doctor would have been rewarding?" Steve asked as he continued making breakfast.
"I'm sure it would have been but I just didn't have the calling," Sharon explained. "My classmates were all very passionate, very driven. Just like my parents. But I didn't have that. I could have continued, probably been a good doctor, or I could follow my heart and become a great SHIELD agent." She sighed. "Except there's no SHIELD anymore and I'm pretty sure the CIA isn't thrilled about my sudden leave of absence after less than two weeks."
"That's a tough break," Sam said.
"For me and a lot of people but it's better that Hydra was stopped. For now, anyway." Sharon leaned in her chair, trying to get a look at what Steve was doing at the oven but she couldn't see past his massive shoulders. "What's he making anyway?"
"Whatever it is, we'll have Martha Stewart to thank," Sam answered.
"You've met Martha Stewart?" Sharon asked, impressed.
"No," Steve answered, putting two casserole dishes in the oven. "Just watched a lot of television when I first woke up."
"Food Network?"
Steve seemed embarrassed. "I eat a lot so it seemed like a good idea to learn how to cook. I didn't have anyone cooking for me and I couldn't live on C-Rations like I did during the war."
"If it makes you feel any better about your superior metabolism, Bucky also eats a lot and I've been doing all of his cooking. It'll be nice to share that responsibility," Sharon said. "Which reminds me, we're going to need supplies and soon if we've got two super soldier appetites plus me and Sam. I was already working on a list before you two showed up yesterday."
"That's good," Steve said, "Because I used the last of the eggs, bacon, milk, cheese and whatever the leafy green was."
"Kale?" Sharon asked, standing up and looking in the fridge herself. She shut the door and gave each of them a stony stair. "Which one of you ate my peanut butter cups?"
Bucky was the only one who didn't look away, still immersed in the logic puzzles as he was.
Without admitting that he'd been the one to eat them in the middle of the night, Steve said, "We'll just add those to the list and be sure to buy in bulk."
Since Steve took care of breakfast, Sharon and Bucky washed dishes and cleaned the kitchen while Sam volunteered to run into town. Sharon had wanted to go with him but she wasn't sure how comfortable Bucky felt on his own with his former mission — which she could tell pained Steve.
There wasn't much she could do about it other than to assure him that Bucky just needed time. Or she hoped that was all he needed.
That first day after Steve and Sam arrived, Bucky had stuck to Sharon's side more closely than she could have thought possible. She didn't know if he did it for his sense of security or her own but she twice had to remind him that he couldn't follow her into the bathroom.
It didn't take long, however, for Bucky to make a surprising connection with Sam.
"So you're Steve's best friend," Sam said, catching Bucky during one of the few times Sharon demanded absolute personal space.
Bucky shrugged, his eyes blank and sad at the same time. "That's what I keep being told."
"But you don't remember any of it."
Bucky shook his head. "Not really."
"Probably because of all the electric shock therapy they gave you over the years," Sam said bluntly, taking the kid gloves off that Sharon and Steve insisted they all wear around Bucky.
"Is that what they did to me?" Bucky asked quietly.
"According to the file Black Widow was able to get for Steve." Sam paused. "They also liked to throw you in the freezer when they didn't need you and thawed you out when it was time to kill again."
Bucky's lip quivered. The deaths he remembered. All of them. Thirty-three missions. Forty-seven kills. He saw them in his nightmares, the ones that haunted him when Sharon wasn't there to sooth them away.
"It won't be easy," Sam continued, " And I know Sharon and Steve won't agree, but I think you should read the file. See if it helps you remember what they did to you; see if that helps you remember who you were."
"Why are you helping me?" Bucky asked hoarsely.
"Occupational hazard, I guess. Wounded veterans are happen to be my specialty."
The unlikely bond that formed between Bucky and Sam surprised Sharon and Steve, and pushed Steve a little further toward a depression he'd been fighting a while.
Though the hero tried to hide it, Sharon saw through the facade. However, talking to her about it seemed like the last thing he wanted. Save for that first night in the den, he somehow managed to avoid being alone in a room with her and she was starting to think he was doing it deliberately.
She supposed it was time she focused her attention on another wounded soldier, whether he wanted her help or not.
