Chapter 32: Second Night

True to his word, Bucky and I had climbed out of bed and I'd hustled off to my room to dress for the day in a little mint green dress that Peggy had once said brought out my eyes. We'd met in the hall and he took me down the street to a little diner. We ate and laughed and talked like we were a normal couple and there wasn't a war on.

And now I was standing outside of Bucky's door not quite sure what to do, dressed in an ivory silk nightgown, matching robe tied tightly around my waist and slippers on my feet. I fingered the collar of my robe, not quite sure what to do. Sleeping next to Bucky was like a balm for my nightmares and waking up next to him was even better but there was propriety to think of, and what if he thought I was silly for dressing up like I did just to go to bed, a secret, silly little rich-girl habit I'd always had?

I gripped my collar tightly and made up my mind. The world was mad anyway, who cared what some gossiping soldiers said? Bucky and I knew what was going on between us and we'd do whatever we felt like doing. If we wanted to sleep in the same bed, we would. If we wanted to do more, we would.

My cheeks burned at that thought and before I could lose my nerve I reached up and knocked on the door.

"Coming," Bucky called from the other side of the door. He pulled it open. I blinked. Last night the lamplight had been dim and there had been other things on my mind, but now the overhead lights were on and there were no night terrors or torn pillows to distract me from taking a nice, long look at Bucky's sculpted chest.

"Belle?" The faint surprise in Bucky's voice was enough to pull me away.

"You mentioned repeating last night," I said uncertainly, probing his surprised expression. I bit my lip uncertainly. Had that been a joke? Had I misunderstood? "I didn't… I'll go," I said, turning on my heel.

"No, wait." Bucky caught my arm to keep me from going. "I'm glad you came, to be honest. I just wasn't sure you would," he admitted with a sheepish shrug. "I mean, Steve's the only family I've really got but you've got a public name to worry about. I wasn't sure…"

I chuckled softly. "You and I know what's going on here. It's no one else's business," I said, pulling his hand from my arm and grasping it in mine, squeezing fondly. I looked up at him shyly and asked, "Keep my nightmares away?"

"Every night you'll let me," Bucky promised, and held the door open for me to walk inside. I did, turning when I heard him chuckling as he shut the door.

"What?" I asked, my lips quirking up at the amused glint in his eyes. "What's funny?"

"You ever let your hair down?" Bucky asked dryly, gesturing to the bun low on the back of my head. My hand flew up to cup my hair self-consciously.

"It's easier to brush in the morning if I keep it up," I explained with a shrug.

"I've never seen your hair down," Bucky said, shooting me puppy dog eyes. I frowned at him, but there was no real anger in the expression.

"Bucky, stop that," I scolded. If anything, the eyes got more intense. I groaned and reached up to my hair. Bucky grabbed my arms to stop me.

"Do you want to see or not?" I asked teasingly.

"I want to do it," Bucky said, sounding like a child begging for a toy as he sat me down on the edge of the bed. He crawled up and kneeled behind me, picking gently through my hair for bobby pins. He pulled them out gently, careful not to rip my hair. Of anything about my appearance, my hair was what I paid the least attention to. I normally just threw it up in a bun to keep it out of the way and went. Now I savored the attention as the pile of bobby pins on Bucky's night table grew.

"How many are in here?" he demanded in exasperation as Bucky pulled out his eighth bobby pin and my bun only just started to unravel a bit. I chuckled.

"I have a lot of hair and it's very fine. It takes quite a bit to get it to stay up all day," I explained. I reached back to help him with the pins and got my hand smacked for my trouble.

"I'm having fun," Bucky chided. "It's like one of those pictures where you've got to find all the hidden things."

I laughed at that and let Bucky keep pulling pins until my hair finally all fell down my back to brush against the sheets.

"It's so long," Bucky said in fascination, carding his fingers through the strands. I smiled and hummed happily as the gentle brushing sent warm little tremors through me. "And so soft," he continued, seemingly fascinated by the strands of brown. "And I'd never realized how many colors are in your hair. There's red and gold and copper..."

I smiled, turning around to kneel on the bed. Bucky scooted back to make room for me, pouting at me until I pulled my hair over my shoulder for him to keep playing with.

"Having fun?" I asked wryly as he kept tangling and untangling his fingers in my hair. I'd never seen him look so childlike.

"What would I have to do to get your wear down like this?" Bucky asked. I raised an eyebrow, a little surprised.

"What, you like it down?"

"Mhm." Bucky nodded. He reached forwards, tugging some hair over my left shoulder and some over my right to frame my face, letting the rest fall down my back. His eyes flicked up and he started laughing, pointing to just above my left eyebrow. "You have one curl!" he said delightedly, reaching up and gently tugging on what was indeed the one curl I had, a bit of hair that liked to curve down onto my forehead when I was particularly frazzled and frustrated me to no end.

I huffed and pushed the curl back. Bucky chucked me under the chin and urged, "Come on, name your price?"

I bit my lip and pretended to think it over. "Well let's see, what can I get for it?" I mused teasingly. "Doing my laundry? Mending my clothes after a mission?"

"Teach me to sew and we'll talk," Bucky said bluntly. I chuckled.

"How about this," I offered, reaching out and catching Bucky's hands in my own, pressing them together between mine and curiously examining the size difference. "Whenever I wear my hair down, you've got to give me a kiss. That sound fair?"

"Gladly," Bucky said, and leaned forward, pecking my lips. He pulled back and groaned, his eyes on the alarm clock by the pile of bobby pins. "It's getting late. You ready to sleep?"

I nodded and Bucky got up to flick off the lights while I crawled under the sheets. He joined me a moment later and I leaned over to turn off the lamp by his bed, plunging us into darkness.

Suddenly it was incredibly awkward. I was still wearing my robe, with the belt pinching my side uncomfortably. I was lying on my back with my hands folded on my stomach. My hair was being tugged slightly and my elbow was just barely brushing Bucky's. Last night we'd ended up cuddled together first for comfort and then unknowingly. Now, I suddenly felt too shy to get comfortable, to drape myself over Bucky like I had the night before.

I huffed at that.

"What's wrong?" Bucky asked. I turned my head to look at him.

"You're on the wrong side," I said decisively. I sat up in bed. Bucky reached up to place a hand on my back.

"What? What are you doing?"

I didn't answer, just awkwardly tugged my robe off and tossed it onto a nearby chair. I clambered over Bucky and flopped down shamelessly, draping one of my legs over his and cuddling my face into his chest, throwing an arm over his stomach.

"I always sleep on my right side," I explained. "I'm getting comfy."

Bucky laughed and turned to face me. "Conveniently enough," he whispered, nose brushing mine in the darkness, "I sleep on my left most nights."

I hummed in response and leaned forward just a little to kiss him gently on the lips. "Goodnight," I whispered.

"Goodnight," Bucky replied.

Wrapped safely in Bucky's arms, I drifted off.


I couldn't move. I could only spin in a slow circle, staring in horror at the spectacle around me. There was Yori, stuck to a board like a butterfly in a collection, her wings held out to the side with giant pins and her tail impaled with another one. Her eyes were wide open and glassy as she slumped bonelessly, more pins through her hands and feet keeping her upright and a dribble of dark blood running from her mouth.

As I rotated I saw more horrors. There was Morita with his chest cut open. Jones with his organs spread out around him. Dernier with his skin peeled back to expose the muscle beneath. The top of Dum Dum's head had been cut away, his bowler hat perched morbidly over his exposed brain. Howard's throat slowly oozed blood from a slit and Peggy's limbs and head had been cut from her torso. Falsworth's bones all seemed to be broken. There was Steve with brands in the shape of the star from his shield all over him, raised and red and blistered. Most horrifying there was Bucky, his gorgeous blue eyes gouged out of his head and resting in a jar by his feet.

I screamed as I finished my spin and saw Schmidt standing there with the Red Skull revealed.

"Do you like my experiments?"

I shot upright with a scream, staring into the darkness. I clutched my arms and shuddered as sobs ripped from my chest, tears flowing down my cheeks helplessly.

"Belle? What happened?" The lamp flicked on and then Bucky was there, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me securely against his side. I continued to sob and shudder as he pulled me closer, rocking me gently and whispering in my ear.

"It's okay, it's okay. It was just a dream Belle, just a dream," he murmured, kissing the top of my head and stroking his fingers through my hair comfortingly.

"It was h-horrible," I sobbed. "All of you… The Commandoes, Steve, Howard, Peggy. Y-You. The Red Skull had torn you all open."

"That'll never happen," Bucky promised me. "We'll be fine. If anything happened to one of us the rest would move heaven and earth to get them back."

"I-I know," I nodded weakly, taking deep breaths to get myself under control. Bucky pulled back, cupping my face in his palms. He leaned forwards and kissed my cheeks, kissed the tears away. When he was done he pressed a chaste kiss to my lips before pulling me back down onto the mattress.

"We're all safe here," Bucky promised. "We're all hidden away." He dragged the covers up and over our heads, dragging me closer so that our chests pressed together. I laid a hand on the side of his throat, breathing in the scent of him deeply and reveling in the affection. "No one's gonna find us, you got me Belle?" he said fiercely. "We're safe here."

Somehow, I believed him. "We're safe," I replied with a weak smile. "And you're wonderful," I added gratefully, pecking him on the nose. I felt him smiling as he guided my head to lean against his shoulder.

"Gotta keep you smiling," Bucky whispered. "Cuz you keep me smiling, sweetheart."

"Sweetheart," I chuckled. "I like that."

"Then I'll call you that every day," Bucky promised.

"No," I disagreed, smiling teasingly. "Josie, for everyday. Sweetheart is only for when we're alone. Hmm… honey for holidays. And Belle only on very special occasions. And will you call me when you're upset?" I mused.

I felt a kiss on my forehead. "Never gonna happen, love," Bucky promised, then laughed. "Oh, when can I call you love?"

I smiled and leaned up, kissing him gently and whispering against his mouth, "You can call me love only when you are completely and totally content."

Bucky kissed me. "Sounds like a plan."


The next morning I was woken up by the feeling of fingers lazily tracing my skin. I remained loose, fighting the urge to smile. I knew exactly who it was; I could smell the scent of storms. But I also didn't want him to stop. He traced what I realized was his name on my shoulder before trailing the backs of his fingers up and down my throat a few times. Then he reached up and dragged the side of a finger across my cheekbone. A fingertip trailed along my jaw and traced across my lips.

As Bucky's finger paused in the middle of my bottom lip I smiled. "I could get used to waking up like this."

Bucky smiled and kissed my shoulder. I looked over my shoulder and met him in a kiss before rolling onto my back so that I could see him without straining.

"Good morning, darling," I said, reaching up to cup his jaw and rub my thumb across his stubbled jaw affectionately.

"Morning love," Bucky replied, covering my hand in his. "Are you feeling better this morning?"

My nightmare was only a faint memory, wrapped up in sheets and Bucky and love. "Perfect," I assured him.

"Mm. Me too."