Bucky slipped the ring on my finger and then kissed the breath from me - NOT that I was complaining - who needed to breathe anyway, really? Well, me, obviously and he knew it because he pulled away far too soon for my liking and looked so happy that it made my chest ache.

"You had this ring handy," I looked down and bit my lip, trying to hold back MORE fucking tears. "JUST in case the mood struck you -"

He chuckled, joining me on the bed again, and pulling me so I could lay on his chest like he knew I preferred. I would never NOT want to hear the sound of his heartbeat - strong and sure - pounding under my ear and cheek. His dog tags dangling close enough for me to touch and curl my fingers around - which I did - another piece of him that soothed me, the metal warmed by his skin.

"The mood's been there for awhile," he admitted, taking my left hand in his and holding it up so the light could catch the stone. "Nothing has felt this right for a very long time, Brooke. Being with you - feels right." His voice was soft and quiet, almost reverent and my eyes shut listening to him. "I know you tease me about how I talk about Steve," I hummed, snuggling into his warmth, wanting to listen to him forever. "But I really do wish you could meet him, and he could meet you." His head was bowed so he could kiss my head, and as he spoke the added warmth from his breath washed over me. "He kept telling me that I deserved a life - a real chance at normalcy again - like what he had." I nodded, or tried to, but I was warm and tired - and he was so -

I woke up in the darkness of our hotel room, wrapped in Bucky's arms and still wearing the clothes I wore to the cookout. Groggy and dry-mouthed, I tried to remember falling asleep - and wanted to kick myself because he'd been bearing his soul to me and like an idiot I'd drifted off -

"Hey," he sounded like he might have napped too and when he yawned, I was proven correct. "I think you wore yourself out today at the docks, sweetheart." Even half awake, he had jokes.

"Eating everything that wasn't moving, passing out, then throwing up everything I'd eaten does that to me -" I smiled as he chuckled. "How long did we sleep?" He kept his left arm around me as he checked his watch.

"Four hours," he sounded as shocked as I felt. "Too late to go back to Sarah's -"

Sighing heavily and dramatically, I propped my chin on his chest. "Oh dear, Buck, however will we spend all the hours between now and morning if we can't go over to the Wilsons'?"

Even in the dimness of the room - with only the light that peeked through the curtains from outside giving us any illumination - I could see him lick his lips. "I have a few ideas."

"Do you?" It came out breathless with a hint of a dare, and the words had hardly passed my lips before I was on my back and he was hovering over me. "Oh, you have ideas -" I agreed, smiling as his head lowered, promising that Bucky Barnes was definitely a man with a plan.

We couldn't spend our entire visit to Delacroix in our hotel room - no matter how fucking tempting the idea was - and with Bucky lying next to me naked it was beyond tempting. And while I managed to nap without a nightmare, something he was quick to point out - I wasn't as lucky after he ran out of ideas and we finally fell asleep.

While he got to have a restful, pleasant sleep - I had a new edge to my nightmares.

They started with the same flashes of colors, almost boring at this point - but instead of the vague feelings of pain and suffering that I'd come to expect - THIS time I actually heard voices. Deep rumbling voices, threatening the pain, warning of the suffering. The screaming that came from their tormented victims was new too, and it wasn't welcome - I'd take boredom over THIS - the howling, pleading, keening.

Bucky shook me awake. Gasping, my face wet with tears and my throat clogged with - had I screamed too?

He held me, promising me I was safe and that as soon as we were home he'd take me to see Dr. Strange - that he'd find a way to fix this - the nightmares. That we'd find out why they were getting worse instead of better.

Thank God it was morning when he'd had to shake me free from my dreams - he pulled me into the shower, tempting me away from whatever hellscape my mind pulled me into and back into the reality of OUR life together - and with his heat and the warmth of the water beating down on us he managed it.

Sam had texted us an invitation to breakfast and between our nap and exercise - even with my nightmare I felt pretty rested - we managed to get up in time to make it.

"Remember, Bucky Barnes," I told him as we drove up the driveway to the Wilson family home, "we are NOT pregnant until we have it confirmed by an ACTUAL doctor."

"I know," he nodded, smiling at me as he parked under one of the trees. "Can I at least tell them about this?" He took my hand and kissed my ring.

Studying him like I was considering his question, I rolled my eyes. "Since I'm wearing it, I think you might as well." He leaned over and kissed me. "I do love you, you know that right?"

"I had the feeling you might," he winked, and got out of the car, rushing around to my side so he could open my door and help me out. "Come on, future Mrs. Barnes." I bit my lip as goosebumps broke out on my arms at the sound of it. "Let's go get hassled by Steve's shitty replacement." I snorted, as Sam came out to greet us.