Chapter 10

Bucky's groan mingled with my own, a heavy, contented sigh escaping my mouth. His gaze slid to me, a lazy tired grin stretching across his lips. He chuckled softly, running a hand through his hair and lowering his gaze, shaking his head as I hummed in question.

"I can't believe you ate six giant cookies."

"I can't believe you ate the rest," I retorted with a laugh, curling up in my velvety purple armchair, leaning my head back and patting my stomach contentedly, "and they go incredibly well with Irish coffee, so sue me."

"Nah, the milk was better," he replied, ambling slowly through the living room. He examined the bookshelves thoroughly, running his fingers along the spines of the ones that interested him. He tossed a glance over his shoulder, noting, "I owe you a gallon, by the way."

"With what money?" I replied sleepily, grabbing a pillow and cuddling it to my chest, "don't worry about it. I didn't want cereal for breakfast anyway."

"These are nice."

He gestured to the paintings decorating the walls, "Did you do them? Since you seem to be able to do basically everything."

"Alas," I mused, though not at all upset, "I'm the world's worst artist. Stick figures are about the best I can manage. I leave those up to Steve. He has a great eye, even if it embarrasses him every time I fawn over his work."

"Sounds about right," Bucky chuckled, pulling the gauzy curtains back with a metal finger and peering down into the streets. He just couldn't help it, his head tilting this way and that as he examined the bustle below. "He never did like to flaunt his talent. Most dames weren't impressed with his looks, and his paintings didn't ever seem to help."

"Dames?"

"Ladies," he corrected himself, allowing the curtain to fall and waiting a moment before turning and offering me an unimpressed glance.

"No, no, I don't mind being called a dame, sport," I noted with a smirk, amusement flooding me as his nose wrinkled at the name. I jerked a foot at the couch. "You can sit down, you know. You could even lay down if you wanted to."

"How are you so calm about this? About me being here?"

"I mean, it could be the three drinks I had," I shrugged, a triumphant grin flitting across my face as he took a seat, gingerly as it was, "did you see the last one? That was just a straight mug full of whiskey."

He leaned his head back against the couch, a loud laugh escaping him, "I did notice that. I think you mighta drank me under the table back before, you know, it didn't affect me."

"That's a terrible trade-off," I lamented, reaching for the controller on the coffee table and turning on the Food Network, "super strength but no more dranks? I dunno…"

"Well, I didn't exactly ask for it," he replied and my stomach clenched. Lips twisting into a sheepish grimace, I offered him a wincing, "Sorry."

"But you're right," he continued, his eyes drifting to the television, brows darting high on his forehead, "how can you think about food after all those cookies?"

"Because I can always appreciate food," I shrugged, "even if I'm stuffed, food always looks and smells good. And this is Guy's Grocery Games; this show is addicting, I swear, it's-"

A frantic pounding at the door had Bucky leaping to his feet, his arm whirring as he braced himself for battle. Lazily, I turned, tipping my glasses away from my face and frowning, "Ah, fuck, I knew this was gonna happen."

"Who is it?"

His tone was both solemn and tortured, and I hauled myself to my feet, gesturing toward the couch, "My neighbor. I'll be right back, but you might wanna go into my bedroom just in case. Trust me, he's not a threat, though he'd prob'ly like to think he is, when he's swingin' around outside."

Confusion plastered itself across his scruffy face and I waved a hand, "Ignore me; I'm a bit tipsy. Just, go hang out in my room; I'll come get you in a bitsy."

I didn't wait to see if he moved, snickering to myself at my rhyme. Making my way to the door, I hauled it open, bracing myself as Peter launched himself at me. His tone was high, squeaky, and he was going about a hundred miles a minute.

"OhmygodAuryIsawthenewsandIknewyouwerethereandIwassoworriedbutAuntMaywouldn'tletme-"

"Of course she's not gonna let you fly halfway across the country, Petey," I disentangled myself from him, ruffling his hair and laughing as he swatted me away, "and I told you I'd be fine. Always am."

"Cuz you're an Avenger," he breathed the word as though it were holy, his hands shoved into his hair, eyes ready to bug out of their sockets, "Aury, I was so scared! I saw that the Winter Soldier, that he killed all those people and you were gonna go after him- Did you find him? Did you stop him? You and Captain America and Iron Man?"

"We stopped the guy who did it," I replied, plopping myself onto a stool at the island, casting a furtive glance into the living room. Bucky had gone and I shifted my glasses fractionally. I saw him through the wall, pacing the bedroom, his entire body coiled and ready to fight. His head snapped up as I looked his way, his eyes scanning what would just be a lavender wall to him.

Dropping the glasses, I didn't realize Peter had stopped talking until he touched my forearm. Returning my gaze to him, I noticed the fear coloring his face, his eyes darting to the bedroom. "Is someone here?"

Shit.

I didn't hear Bucky bust out of the window in my room, but I couldn't exactly draw attention to check on him now that Peter was already suspicious. Blinking, I exhaled heavily, "Petey… I have a, well, I have a guy here."

Never had I seen his face turn so red, the blush flooding his face and spreading across his neck, his ears, and down under his collar. His jaw dropped and he avoided my gaze, shifting from foot to foot. He rubbed the back of his neck, fidgeting as he apologized, flustered beyond belief.

I would've teased him but I had to make sure Bucky hadn't run. A laugh almost escaped me, and I caught it in my throat at the last minute, as I watched Bucky pull his leg back into the room through the window. He reached up, slowly lowering the window and latching it silently.

"Why-why-why didn't you say something!?" Peter whispered frantically, nearly tripping over himself to get to the door, "I would've-"

"You wouldn't have been alright until you saw that I was alive and well," I retorted easily, drawing him into another hug and pecking his cheek, "I wanted to make sure you knew I was okay. And I am, and I'm so glad you came to check on me. But-"

Glancing pointedly back down the hall, I let the implication hang unspoken in the air. Peter couldn't seem to stop nodding, avoiding my gaze - and looking down the hallway where Bucky hid in the darkness of my bedroom - studiously. "Yep. Yep, I'm glad. So glad, Aury, really glad you're okay. I'll let Aunt May know and, uh, well, I'll make sure she doesn't come over to say hi."

"Aw, once she sees that blush, she'll know not to come a-knockin', Petey," I couldn't help but tease, "I'll talk to you tomorrow, I promise."

"Okay, um, have a nice-well-" He looked about ready to cry from the embarrassment of it all. Exhaling heavily, he managed a 'bye, Aury!' before dipping out of the apartment and nearly slamming the door shut.

Clicking the lock shut, I darted to my room, flipping the light on and fisting my hands on my hips, "You really were gonna jump out the window?"

Bucky lifted a shoulder, not a trace of apology on his face as he stuffed his hands into his pockets, "You were vague - why would he be a threat?"

"Peter Parker got bitten by a radioactive spider and now he's Spider-Man," I replied easily, "he thinks he's a superhero but it's small stuff right now. He hasn't done much other than stop a few robberies, but I've seen him as Spider-Man. He's awkward as hell, but he thinks he's tough. Now-," I glowered, "were you about to climb out of my window?"

"Yeah, if I had to," he replied, arms folding across his chest, his jaw clenching. He looked so, so stern, his anger looking so completely out of place as he stood there in front of my bed decked out in pillows and a feather soft, shaggy white duvet. It was then, though, as he fastidiously avoided looking down at me, that I noticed the color that had trailed up his neck and into his cheeks.

Oh. My. God.

Just like Peter, my suggestion that I had a man - this man - in my bed had the Winter Soldier flushing.

Fighting the urge to grin, I maintained my stern tone, "You don't have to. I promised you that."

He didn't answer, finally lowering his gaze from some spot above my head to meet my gaze. He remained silent for another beat before nodding shortly.

"Now," I couldn't help it, "take your pants off and get in that bed."

The shock on his face forced a belly laugh out of me before I could help it and I grabbed one of the pillows from it and a blanket from the closet, "Before I change my mind and force you to sleep on the couch."

Trailing the blanket across the floor, I allowed my feet to drag, exhaustion finally winning out. Bucky, though, was hot on my heels, tugging the pillow and blanket from my hands. He caught my arm next, halting me and moving around me, jerking his chin toward my room and assuring me firmly, "You're doing more than enough by letting me stay here; I'm not kicking you out of your own bed."

"I don't even think you're going to fit on the couch," I replied dubiously, peering past him at the sofa, imaging the soldier with his legs folded uncomfortably in an attempt to fit, "you won't be able to sleep."

"Aurelie, I've slept in much worse places on much worse things than a comfy couch with a pillow and a blanket," he replied simply, and I knew by his tone and the hard, sad set of his eyes that he had.

The thought had me frowning but I nodded anyway, "If you change your mind, just come wake me up, alright?" He nodded and I let out an unamused laugh, "You're not gonna come wake me up, are you?"

A huff of laughter escaped him and he shook his head, his hair falling into his face as he turned and tossed the pillow onto the couch.

"Fine," I replied, feigning exasperation before allowing a warm smile to cross my face, "good night, Bucky."

He froze for a moment before flicking out the blanket and allowing it to settle on the couch. He turned, a soft grin flitting across his face, "Good night, Aurelie."

/

As light a sleeper as I was, the slightest noise could wake me up from a dead sleep. As it was, the gut wrenching scream had me flinging up out of bed, grabbing my glasses and a robe, and dashing into the living room.

Bucky thrashed on the couch, tangled in the blanket, another tortured cry ripping from his chest. It came from the very depths of his soul, it seemed, and without thinking I latched onto his shoulders, shaking him roughly. He shot off of the sofa, slamming us into the coffee table and onto the floor with a crash.

The breath knocked out of me, I could only huff as his body bared down on mine, his vibranium arm rearing back and forming a fist.

I could've stopped him. I should've stopped him.

With a simple glance, I could've controlled him, but-

Jerking my head to the side, I dodge his fist, bringing my leg up between us and kneeing him hard in the balls. He flinched, releasing me, but wasn't reduced to a puddle of mush like any other man. His training with HYDRA must have been beyond intense, to barely break a sweat at the action. But with his grip loosened, I was able to bring both feet up between us and kick his bare chest hard, screaming his name.

The sound of his name, his real name, shook him out of his stupor and he scrambled back against the couch, panting heavily. I sat, frozen, on the floor, the robe slipping off of my shoulders, and assessed him quickly.

His eyes screwed shut, his fists slamming against his forehead, his voice barely a whisper as he apologized over and over and over.

Shuffling quickly across the floor, I pulled his hands from his face, pain tugging at my heart at the despair on his face. Though the room was darkened, it didn't take any special gift to see the tears and sweat glinting on his face and chest.

He tried to pull away when I hugged him, his skin hot against mine, but slowly relaxed into my touch as I murmured quietly, "One thing you'll learn about me, Buck, is that I'm a hugger. Sorry."

The apology wasn't sincere in the slightest, not like his own, but an almost hysterical laugh escaped him and he pulled me tighter to him. "I am sorry."

"I know," I assured him, "I know. Are you okay?"

"Am I okay?" he retorted, pulling back and examining me closely, searching for any real sign of injury, "I should be asking you that. You should've stopped me."

"I thought I did," I mused dryly, offering him a cheeky grin when he shot me an unamused frown, "and I thought about it. But I'm alright," I didn't mention the throbbing in my elbow and shoulder from slamming into the coffee table, "you're alright. And I told you I wouldn't use my powers on you. You don't deserve that."

"You didn't deserve to be thrown across your living room!" he exploded, disentangling himself from me and stalking into the kitchen. He nearly wrenched the handle off of the faucet, ducking his head and splashing handfuls of water on his face.

Rising to my feet, I righted my robe, tying it tightly across my waist and watching him silently. While I hadn't expected the nightmares, they weren't exactly surprising. With a past like his, how could you not have them? But neither Steve nor Tony had contacted me - except the latter to chide me for taking the dangerous soldier into my home - so I had to assume his name hadn't been cleared.

And getting tossed across my room wasn't exactly reason enough for me to toss him out on his ass.

Even if my funny bone hadn't stopped sending ringing, pulsing pain through my body.

"That's also true," I noted eventually, approaching him slowly, and resting a hip against the counter. His fingers dug into the sink, his metal ones causing deep indents and I mused dryly that my landlord would not be pleased. Maybe Tony'll fix it for me…

Bucky's head dipped low, his bright eyes creeping up to meet mine. His shoulders loosened marginally, perhaps because of my complete and utter nonchalance after his outburst.

"It wasn't exactly fun for me," I continued quietly, blinking rapidly until a grin cracked through his morose facade, "but I'm not exactly a novice. I've been in a lot of fights, Bucky. A lot. I can handle myself. I mean, I've never gone head to head with a super soldier, but I don't need my powers to kick ass. Never at 3am, but you get the idea. And it wasn't you. I know that, and so do you."

Resting my hand on his real arm, warm and soft, I gave it a light squeeze. I watched him exhale slowly and nod, jerkily releasing the sink and apologizing softly, "I, well- I was gonna offer to fix it but it's-"

"-3am," we echoed and I laughed, earning a huffing laugh of his own.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

He sighed again, turning away from the sink and slipping down to the floor. I followed him silently, meeting his gaze when he shot me a curious glance. He didn't question me, though, and chewed slowly on his lower lip. I watched the movement, looking away when he turned to me again.

"It was a hit in Morocco," he replied, his tone low, gruff, his head leaned back against the cabinet and his eyes drifting shut, "a high profile SHIELD member. HYDRA sent me in and I went," he swallowed thickly, audibly, steeling his tone from the worble that caught in his throat, "his family was there. I- the orders were to take out any witnesses and-"

Leaning against him, I rested my head against his upper arm, slipping my fingers between his. He nearly broke my hand as he squeezed reflexively and I winced; he relaxed his grip but didn't release me.

"There were kids. Three of them. I didn't know for sure if they had heard or seen anything; they were upstairs. But… they were a liability. And I couldn't risk it."

"You did what you were ordered to," I mused softly, though the thought of the man currently sitting beside me having murdered innocent children sent a chill up my spine. He never would have done it without HYDRA's influence, I knew, and it was disconcerting to think that my powers could do the same, if I were on the wrong side of the law. "It wasn't you, Bucky."

"I wish it wasn't."

He rested his cheek against the top of my head and I didn't mention the warm, wet tear that slipped into my hair. My heart clenched and stuttered, but I curled myself tighter against him, wishing for his sake that it wasn't him either.

/

Please let me know what you think!! I'd love to hear from you all!

SomebodyWhoCares: not paint haha!

Guest: It's gonna be relatively AU; I've got some good ideas formulating! And you're right; I went back and changed it in the first chapter.