A/N: Yay, we're really back! Okay, so just a few things. One: I'm a big fan of the slow-burn romance. I'm really not into jumping into insta-love. I think you guys have figured that out about me…but there, I've said it. Make of that what you will!
Two: I'm sorry for how long it took to put this update up! Life got a little crazy. But this leads into…
Three: Updates on this story may be more infrequent as time goes on simply because school will be starting up again and I'm heading into my toughest and most stressful year. Don't worry, I'd NEVER abandon this story, but try to stay patient with my updates as time goes on, kay? This story is kind of like "my precious" so I want to make sure I do a good job on it. I'd rather take longer to write a really good chapter than quickly write a crappy one, you know? So stick with me!
Ooh, and sorry for all the confusion regarding Kaplan! No, he is not any character from Marvel. I made him up and I didn't even realize that there were characters named Kaplan in Marvel! Same with Lewinski. But I did put in a little wink to a different Marvel superhero in the first chapter, if you can find it!
Not having any clue what one wore to a random dinner at their best friend's house when commanded to dress "not horribly", Bucky decided on a pair of dark-wash jeans and a black polo with black shoes. He shook his head slightly as he pulled on the clothes. Ari took him shopping sometimes—or, rather, he sat on a bench and stared at the floor while Ari shopped for him—and he let her do this because, frankly, he had no patience or understanding as to what to shop for. But Ari had a strange sense of style when it came to him; she always ended up buying a lot of black. He didn't actually care very much what he wore and black was great for camouflaging during a mission, but it did make him look more menacing during the daytime. However, Ari thought he looked good in black and he wasn't going to argue with her, not when he had no sense of what colors looked good on who and why. That wasn't his area. So he let her buy his clothes and he wore black quite often and he accepted this as the way things were going to be.
At the last minute, he hesitated and then pulled on a black jacket and navy blue gloves. He still felt awkward going out in public while displaying his cybernetic arm. His appearance in public was a strange thing indeed; he knew he got strange looks when he did display his cybernetic arm. People weren't used to seeing a man with a shiny silver metal arm. But no one actually knew who the Winter Soldier had been (mostly only intelligence communities had been aware of him, if even them) and even if they had known who the Winter Soldier was, they wouldn't have known he had a metal arm. So no one in public ever made the connection between him and the masked man who had wreaked havoc upon Washington D.C. over a year ago. No one also ever recognized him as Bucky Barnes. This was probably due to the fact that he wore a baseball cap that shadowed his face everywhere he went and also because people seemed slightly afraid to look directly at his face. He didn't always look extremely welcoming. Besides, even if someone did look at him and think, Wow, he sure looks like that Bucky Barnes did—which he was sure at least one person probably had thought, over the course of one year—it's not like anyone would actually think he was Bucky Barnes. They would just think he resembled him very closely. (Bucky knew one day people would eventually catch on and realize he was the real Bucky Barnes but he was hoping it would take a really long time for this to happen.) And after people stared at his metal arm for a moment, they usually shrugged and moved on. Prosthetics and metal limbs weren't as strange these days; plenty of humans had metal legs and arms and while Bucky's was obviously a hundred times more advanced and realistic-looking, most people in public just chalked it up to the fact that this poor man who'd lost a limb must have paid a lot of money to get such a realistic-looking prosthetic in return.
And yet, despite all these factors that let him know that showing his arm wasn't a big deal, he chose not to, most of the time. A tiny part of it was the fact that he didn't want to advertise to anyone that he was around—after all, HYDRA would probably still be looking for him—but mostly it was because he just didn't like people noticing him. An aftereffect of being the Winter Soldier, who'd always worked on ghost status. He was used to being in the shadows. Being out in direct sunlight still made him uncomfortable sometimes.
His phone rang again. He looked at the screen. This time it was Steve's actual number. "Hello?" he answered.
"Change of plans," said Steve, sounding a bit hurried. "Meet me for dinner at the extra apartment."
Bucky blinked and then frowned. "What? Why? Steve, are you in some sort of trouble? Because if you are, you need to tell me."
"No, no," said Steve. "Well—I mean—just meet me there, okay? Come at…come at seven." Then he hung up without even saying goodbye, which wasn't like Steve at all. Steve was very big on manners.
Now Bucky was even more bewildered. The apartment in question was an empty apartment with the barest of furnishings and appliances that made it look like a human lived there and every single SHIELD agent left had a key to it. It was for use in case of emergency—in case someone needed to crash somewhere under-the-radar for a little while or if they were undercover and needed to take someone "home" but didn't want to take them to their real home. Why on earth would Steve be using that apartment? He kept insisting he wasn't in any huge trouble—but the usage of the apartment indicated otherwise.
Bucky realized he still had the whole day before he had to go to dinner so he took off his clothes and put his sweats back on. A wave of fatigue hit him and he decided to take a light nap. However, his light nap turned into a deep nap, and he was awoken by someone knocking at his apartment door. His eyes snapped open and he immediately leaped to his feet, shoulders tense and eyes darting around. "Soldier!" came Ari's muffled voice through the door. "You home?" The golden light filtering through the window was coming in through the wrong direction; he'd slept till very late afternoon, bordering on evening. Who knew he'd been that tired?
His shoulders slumped as the tension drained out of him. His Winter Soldier reflexes—those were never going away, he knew that. He couldn't help them. But this was Ari; she wasn't the enemy. He got up, yawned, froze and quickly brushed his teeth and splashed water on his face (he didn't want to be unhygienic around a lady), called, "Wait, I'm coming!" and then yanked the door open.
Immediately, a thick bouquet of flowers smacked him in the face, making him jump back and sneeze as all the pollen flew up his nose. "What the—?"
Ari marched into the apartment and shut the door, setting the huge bouquet on the counter near her and spinning on her heel to look at him. "You're not dressed yet."
"I—what?" he asked, confused. Then he noticed what Ari was wearing—a dark purple dress with black tights and black flats. Her hair was swept up into a neat pony and she was wearing simple makeup. A silver pendant with a crystal hanging from it glittered in between her delicate collarbones and he felt disoriented for a small second. Then he blinked and frowned. "Are you coming to dinner too?"
She rolled her eyes. "Don't sound so disappointed." But she was smiling. Nothing ever seemed to faze Ari or make her upset. Sometimes Bucky questioned her sanity. Just sometimes.
"No, I'm just—confused," he said. "I don't know what's going on. Steve just called me and asked me to dress nicely and come to dinner but I don't know why…"
Ari shrugged. "Neither do I, actually. He called me and told me the same thing. He also told me to bring flowers," she added, sounding puzzled. "He wouldn't tell me why when I asked. But he sounded a bit panicked, so I thought, Why not? And then I decided to come around here to see how you were doing—and here I find you, not dressed and ready at all!"
Bucky rolled his eyes. "I'm a guy," he said. "It'll take me five minutes to throw on my clothes. Less, actually."
Ari waved him off. "Go get ready, Soldier. I'll wait."
He knew she wouldn't listen to any argument—and besides, it was already six p.m. When had it gotten that late? He must have been even more tired than he'd thought (which wasn't surprising, considering he'd been awake for the past 48 hours). So he stumped away and decided to take another shower, taking longer this time to be perfectly squeaky-clean and presentable. He brushed his hair back and decided to shave. He didn't shave often because it was a tiresome chore (so he usually had a face full of stubble) but he shaved often enough that he didn't have full on beard. That would have annoyed him even more than shaving every single day. But Steve wanted him to look presentable so he would shave today, not knowing what was going to happen. He examined his face in the mirror for a moment. He didn't look as gaunt or haunted as he had a year ago, when he'd examined his reflection in Ari's mirror. He had gained back all his muscle as well, no longer as rangy as he'd been during his weeks of illness and mental instability. But his face was still pale and he had dark shadows under his eyes… It was amazing, actually, that he'd gotten any sleep at all today, considering what had been happening to him lately…
He tried smiling at himself. He looked strange. He frowned. Now he looked normal. He settled for a small, hesitant smile which looked more natural on his face. Bucky Barnes' old cocky smirk didn't look right on his face anymore, in his opinion, but it didn't matter. He didn't smirk as much these days as he used to (though it did show up every now and then; usually when Sam was around, wisecracking, and Bucky managed to throw in a couple of jabs at him). He blinked and then turned away, throwing on his clothes. Shrugging on his leather jacket, he examined his reflection and sighed. He would always look…dangerous. There was no helping it. Was there something about him that naturally radiated darkness? Remembering at the last minute, he splashed on some random Stark cologne he'd gotten as a gift in a Tony Stark gift basket (Stark was a source of simultaneous annoyance, vague amusement, and tension in Bucky's life) and left.
Ari was sitting on his couch, her flats neatly on the floor beside her, watching the news with a worried expression. He came up behind the couch and leaned over it slightly, resting his arms on the back of the couch, next to her. His eyes focused on the TV that he didn't use as much as he should have (he preferred reading to watching movies). "What's up?"
"The usual: war, violence, genocide," she said but she looked unhappy. Ari took these matters to heart in ways most jaded people didn't. In ways that Bucky didn't. To him, violence and war were an unfortunate but unavoidable aspect of life and he wasn't much affected by it anymore. Just another way he was different from Ari. She cocked her head and slowly said, "There's been reports of…" Her voice trailed off as she stared blankly at the TV, which was now singing the catchy tune for Luna Carpets. "Never mind." She shook her head.
As she spoke, Bucky noticed the scars shining on her inner forearms. The redness had long faded by now and the words now had a silvery-white gleam to them. Sometimes, in certain lighting, they weren't noticeable and at other times—such as now—they were very prominent. Ari had never made an attempt to hide them. THE WINTER SOLDIER SALUTES YOU. Carved into both of her inner arms. Bucky still avoided looking at them and even though he'd apologized profusely for them a year ago, he found it hard to bring them up now. He still felt like he had tainted her somehow, ruined a part of her. Ari never seemed to care…but then, he knew Ari was good at hiding feelings that she thought might trigger him. No one else except for Steve, Sam, and Natasha knew the story behind the scars. He knew that some of the agents remaining at SHIELD thought he'd carved the words into Ari and regarded him with a mixture of suspicion, disgust, and fear whenever they glanced at the words and then flicked their eyes to him. He always clenched his teeth and pretended not to notice because really, what did it matter what other people thought?
"Hello, Soldier." Ari smacked him on the back of his head and he blinked, shaking himself from his thoughts. "Have you been listening to a word I said? Let's go. Steve said to come a little early."
Bucky wanted to go on his motorcycle but Ari flat out refused. "Yeah, I don't think so," she said. She pointed to her sleek high pony. "My hair will get ruined. Plus, how am I supposed to sit behind you with this in my arms?"
Bucky looked at the bouquet. It was rather abnormally large—more of a flower bush than a flower bouquet, really. "Why did you get the biggest one, then?" he asked.
Ari sheepishly grinned. "Steve said to get a nice one. So I got the most dramatic one there was."
In the end, Ari drove them in her car, which she'd parked out in the parking lot right next to his apartment complex. In selling her house a few months ago, she'd also suddenly decided to sell her old Toyota Camry and buy a new BMW. Bucky had been a bit alarmed because sudden extravagant purchases were not in Ari's nature but she'd laughed off his worries and had said, "Relax, Soldier, I'm not going to squander all my money now or something. I just have a lot saved up and why not? I'm a super-cool SHIELD agent now, right? I need a cool car." And she'd winked at him. He remembered that wink sometimes at the strangest moments, like right when he was about to sleep.
She parked outside the apartment complex that held the SHIELD apartment and they silently gazed up at the apartment (which faced the street). It was on the fourth floor, far left side. Plain white curtains were drawn but Bucky could see lights glowing through the thin hangings. Someone was clearly inside. Surreptitiously touching the dagger and gun he'd slipped into the inside of his jacket, he got out of the car and led the way, leaving Ari to lug the stupid bouquet. He would have offered to help but a tiny part of him felt Ari deserved it for buying the worst bouquet on the planet of earth. He heard her sneeze several times in succession and smiled to himself. Next time she'd bring a single rose.
He waited for Ari to catch up as she teetered up the stairs, trying to see around the flowers and stems and leaves, and eventually, losing patience, he grabbed her arm and hurried her up the steps.
"Thanks," she said breathlessly. Then she sneezed again. It appeared she was allergic to pollen, just like him. Already his eyes felt a bit watery and he blinked away the moisture, rubbing his eyes for a moment. They approached the door and he warily knocked once, twice, thrice with loud and precise movements. Then he pivoted back a step, gently touching the weapons, ready to attack if he needed to. He saw Ari eyeing his weapons but she didn't say anything. She still didn't approve of carrying an arsenal of weapons out and about in public ("We're not just SHIELD agents, we're civilians too, Soldier.") but even she carried a dagger with her wherever she went now. Glancing at her tiny clutch and slim dress, he couldn't fathom where she'd put it now. Perhaps she'd left it at home.
The door swung open and the first thing Bucky saw was Steve—but a Steve who looked just a bit sweaty and anxious. He was also wearing formal clothing, a neat pressed button down with black slacks. "Hi, guys," he said loudly, cheerfully. Bucky looked carefully at his best friend. Steve's blue eyes looked a wee bit panicked.
"Hi, Steve," Ari said slowly. She stepped across the threshold and thrust the bouquet at him. "This is…yeah."
Steve goggled at the enormous bouquet for a second before grabbing it and kissing Ari on the cheek. "Thank you. You're amazing. This is overkill, you didn't have to buy one this fancy."
Ari blushed and Bucky felt a twinge of annoyance. What was there to blush over? Surely Ari couldn't still be star struck in Steve's presence? He pushed into the apartment, looking around—and then froze as he saw a redheaded woman setting down dishes onto the table in the small kitchen. She froze too and they both warily stared at each other for a moment. Who was she? She was short, shorter than Ari (who was 5'5") and very curvy with perfectly curled long red hair and bright green eyes and freckles. Cute…and a total stranger.
And then suddenly her red lip-sticked mouth opened into a wide grin and a strange noise erupted out of her. Far too late, Bucky realized she was squealing with happiness and rushing at him. Before he could side step her, she'd wrapped her arms around him and given him a bone-crushing hug (which was saying something, considering he was much bigger than her and normal humans usually felt so much weaker to him). He stiffened at her touch, frantically asking Steve with his eyes who the hell this woman was and Steve looked torn between wanting to laugh and wanting to die. Ari, on her part, stood frozen, eyebrows raised, mouth slightly open. She was just as lost as Bucky was.
"Welcome!" said the woman, finally releasing him and stepping back, smoothing down her navy and white polka-dotted dress. She was wearing a very 1950's style dress that cinched in at her waist and then flared out dramatically, giving her an hourglass effect, with shiny patent black pumps. "I'm so happy to meet Steve's friends!"
"Right," said Bucky in a slight daze. "Uh…right. I'm…Steve's friend."
"Hi, I'm Ari, nice to meet you," said Ari, having retained her wits about her far more than Bucky had. She reached out to shake the woman's hand but the woman grabbed her arm and yanked her in for a hug as well. Bucky bit his lip to keep from smirking as he watched Ari tentatively hug the woman back, clearly unsure as to what was really going on.
The woman released Ari and said, "I'm Jessica! So you and—" She turned a questioning gaze on Bucky.
"Ben," he said automatically, not wishing to give this woman his real name. She had a slightly manic gleam in her eyes that he didn't trust—not for any sinister reasons but more for human reasons. She seemed…odd.
"So you and Ben are a couple then?" she asked, beaming.
They both stood there blinking for a moment and then Ari laughed. "N—"
"No need to be shy, Ari," Steve suddenly cut in, a strained smile on his face. "I know you wanted to keep it a secret from our friends but Jessica here doesn't know you two! It's alright to admit that you and…Ben are dating."
Ari's mouth fell open and for a moment she looked as though words were failing her—but she, as well as Bucky, was sharp enough to see the real pleading in Steve's eyes so she finally let out a high-pitched extremely fake laugh and said, "Oh, you're right, I forgot I didn't have to hide it here! Ben and I are…yes, we're dating." She smiled at Jessica.
"Wonderful!" exclaimed Jessica loudly. Bucky winced. Why was she practically shouting? Everyone was standing within feet of each other. "Come, come, sit! I've set the table! I can't wait to find out more about you two! Steve's friends! I have to say, I didn't think Captain America was so sociable—"
Bucky swiveled to stare at Steve while Jessica chattered away and Steve shrugged, looking helpless.
"Oh, Steve!" she shrieked, just noticing the bouquet in Steve's arms. "For me? You shouldn't have!"
He didn't, Bucky thought wryly as Jessica grabbed the bouquet and ushered them all over to the table.
They sat down to eat and thus began possibly the worst dinner of Bucky's life. He didn't know who this Jessica woman was, how she'd met Steve, or why on earth she'd somehow ended up having dinner with him, but she was the most annoying person he had ever met in his life. Barring some obnoxious HYDRA strike agents like that smug Rumlow, perhaps. She talked incessantly, blathering on and on and on about inane topics until Bucky wanted to take a serving fork and either stab her in the throat—or stab himself in the throat to put an end to his misery. She kept looking flirtatiously at Steve and trying to coyly banter with him and Steve would give weak, half-hearted responses and Jessica clearly did not get the message. She name dropped "Captain America" so many times that even Ari started to blush out of embarrassment for the woman. Had Steve somehow wandered into a superhero convention to pick up a crazed fangirl as a date? But no, even fangirls couldn't possibly be this obnoxious.
To make matters even worse, she kept inquiring into the intimate details of Bucky's and Ari's lives. She had no filter and asked the most outrageous questions, punctuating them with tipsy hee hee hee giggles that made Bucky want to strangle her. She would give Bucky and Ari sly looks and ask nosy questions about their "dating life" until Ari and Bucky both looked uncomfortably red in the face and Steve looked as though he wanted to sink through the floor. Throughout the whole dinner, whenever Jessica had her back turned, Bucky gave Steve death glares, letting him know that there would be repercussions for subjecting him and Ari through this most unique and extreme form of social torture.
To add insult to injury, the food was bland and tasteless.
Finally, two hours after the nightmare began, Jessica made her exit. Even that took forever, with her tipsy giggling and hugging and attempts to exchange numbers (both Ari and Bucky gave her fake numbers) and when she left, Steve left with her, presumably to walk her to her car. Steve was incapable of letting women walk places alone when night fell. The door shut behind him and Bucky and Ari sat in silence for a minute before he heard a gasping sound and turned to see Ari bent over, leaning against the back of a tan suede sofa, laughing so hard she couldn't breathe. Bucky watched her laugh. She'd done this before once, burst out laughing when he'd expected a totally reaction.
'That," he said finally, "was not funny."
"It kind of was, though!" she said, her shoulders shaking, wiping her eyes. They came smeared away with black and she groaned. "Oh man, I didn't wear waterproof! I probably look"—she started giggling—"like a raccoon!"
Her bright blue eyes had black makeup smudged around them. "You kind of do," he said truthfully. She snorted and started laughing again. He shook his head, smiling slightly, and leaned against the wall, folding his arms. "Okay, seriously though," he said. "What the hell just happened? Why would Steve ever—" Before he could finish his question, the door opened and Steve walked in, slamming it shut behind him. He looked exhausted.
"Explain," said Bucky.
Steve groaned. "That was…a huge mistake."
"Where did you meet her?" asked Ari, grinning widely.
"I just…" Steve ran his hands through his hair. "I accidentally hit her in the face, okay? I opened a store door too quickly and hit her in the face. And then she suggested I take her out to coffee to make up for it and I didn't know how to say no, so I went. Didn't seem like such a harmful thing. But then she recognized who I was and got really intense and loud and basically…basically somehow convinced me to invite her over to cook dinner for me. I didn't know how to say no. I didn't want to be rude." Steve groaned. "But I didn't want her to know the location of my real house so I invited her over here."
"Did she get your number?" Ari asked, looking fascinated.
"No," said Steve, looking relieved.
"Then she doesn't know how to contact you or find you," said Ari, starting to laugh. "I'm sorry, this is so mean of me—but no one is going to believe she had a 'date' with Captain America, you know? She'll come back to this apartment and it'll be empty and abandoned. It'll be like a bad dream."
"I feel kind of bad," said Steve slowly, "but not bad enough to ever contact her again."
"Why did you drag us into this?" Bucky demanded. "I thought she'd never shut up. Some of the stuff she asked…"
"Yeah, she was tactless," said Steve, wincing. "Honestly? I didn't want to be alone with her. So I panicked and told her I'd invite a couple I knew over as a double date or whatever and you were the first two people I thought of."
Ari looked down at her nails suddenly, avoiding Bucky's gaze, and Bucky shifted, feeling a little awkward. Was it telling, that Steve had thought of him and Ari when thinking of couples? What did that say? Sometimes thinking about these things gave Bucky a massive headache so he decided to not focus on it for the time being and instead cuffed Steve on the upper arm, threatening to kill him if he ever put him in a situation like that ever again. He was mostly joking but a little serious as well. Human interaction already made him feel tense as it was…what he had endured tonight had been extremely nerve-wracking. And annoying.
Ari looked at her phone and suddenly exclaimed, "Crap! Is it really that late?"
"It's only ten," said Bucky, giving her a strange look.
"I know, but I had…things to do," she murmured distractedly, tapping at her phone. "Plus…I have to wake up early…"
"Work?" Bucky asked, his tone getting slightly colder. He saw Ari's shoulders tense at his tone but she didn't look up at him.
"Yes," she said curtly, still tapping at her screen. "Work."
Ari's other work was a slight source of tension between them. When not doing work for SHIELD, she had gotten a job working very strange hours at a free clinic in a dangerous and impoverished area of Washington D.C. Not only was it the only place that accepted Ari's very strange schedule, it was something that called to her—helping people who couldn't help themselves. Bucky thought the area was too dangerous for her to regularly work in and she didn't understand his objection, expressing frustration at his frustration. "I'm a SHIELD agent," she would say. "I do way more dangerous work for SHIELD. How is this worse?" and Bucky would have no answer. He couldn't very well tell Ari that he almost regularly had nightmares of her dying now and that they made him very edgy and anxious. That would just make her anxious and she would start acting all nurse-ish with him and he didn't want that.
But since he had no real explanation for why her work for the free clinic bothered him, it remained a small issue between them. Small because they'd never really argued over it; it was just something they both somehow knew they had slight tension over.
Ari told him that she needed to make a quick call so she said goodbye to Steve, hugged him, and then walked out. Bucky said goodbye to Steve and was about to follow Ari when Steve suddenly grabbed his arm. "Listen," said Steve in a serious voice. "Be careful, okay?"
"I always am," said Bucky, a little confused.
"I know," said Steve. "But…we're hearing things."
Remembering a strange comment Ari had made earlier, Bucky slowly asked, "What things?"
Steve hesitated. "Just—just agents in other countries going rogue…behaving in strange ways…vanishing…dying in strange ways… I don't know. None of us are sure of what's going on. But I wanted to warn you."
Bucky looked into Steve's eyes. He had no idea what was going on but Steve was clearly afraid that Bucky would relapse or become the Winter Soldier again. Bucky could have felt irritated at Steve assuming the worst of him—but he didn't because he knew Steve wasn't assuming the worst of him. Steve was dealing with his own emotional issues, and a lot of them involved having separation issues and anxiety over Bucky. Bucky knew he hurt a part of Steve every time he walked out his door and left him behind, no matter how temporary the separation was. He had really messed up his best friend without even meaning to. Steve had lost him so many times. Bucky knew losing him again might just kill Steve.
Which was why he quietly said, "I'll be extra careful."
"Good," said Steve, looking relieved. He let go of Bucky's arm and clapped him on the back. "Alright, you should get going. Don't want to keep Ari waiting."
Bucky knew Ari would never get impatient with him for spending time with Steve—in fact, she was thrilled every time he hung out with Steve—but he nodded and left anyway. It wasn't just Steve who hurt every time Bucky left. Every time Bucky walked away from Steve, he felt a strange pang. And then he had to remind himself, every time, It's not for good. I can see him whenever I want now. I'm not leaving for forever.
It was still hard, though.
He headed down to where Ari was waiting in her car. He buckled his seat belt (something Ari had insisted on, no matter how many times he told her that he didn't need one) and she took off. They were silent but it didn't matter, with Ari. Their silence was comfortable. Neither of them felt the need to clutter it up with meaningless words and he appreciated that. Some people didn't understand that about him, babbling in their anxious attempts to set him (and themselves) at ease, but Ari understood that he handled comfortable silence better than nonstop talking. She reached over and turned on her iPod, which was hooked up to her car, playing yet another song which Bucky had never heard. She was trying to help him catch up but catching up on decades of music was easier said than done.
"In a few weeks I will get time,
To realize it's right before my eyes,
And I can take it if it's what I want to do.
I am leaving, this is starting to feel like,
It's right before my eyes,
And I can taste it, it's my sweet beginning."
Bucky closed his eyes and focused on the lyrics. He always did this every time Ari turned on music. Somehow…somehow the songs she put on always seemed to connect to what he was feeling at the moment. Either she had some sort of magical abilities she wasn't telling him about—or he was learning to connect with music of this generation better than he thought. Just like the song said, he had time and he could do with it whatever he wanted to. True, he worked for SHIELD, using basically the same skills he had as the Winter Soldier—albeit on very different types of targets now—but he had the option to suddenly quit and walk away if he wanted to. So yeah, in a sense, it was a sweet beginning. The knowledge that he could just up and quit—just run away if he wanted without people hunting him down to kill him (though he was sure Steve would still hunt him down)—thrilled him inside, fed him like an addiction. Sometimes he still went out intending to do one thing and randomly changed his mind and did something else, just for the satisfaction of making up his own mind and not being punished for not following anyone's orders.
The ride home felt much shorter than the ride there and they had soon pulled up to Bucky's apartment complex. Ari said goodbye to him, patting the back of his hand for a moment, and then he was watching her car pull out of the parking lot and vanish down the road. He headed up to his apartment, hoping he didn't run into Kristen. She seemed to hold odd hours as well and had run into Bucky several times during the past year, every conversation extremely awkward for him.
Thankfully he didn't run into her this time and was able to get into his apartment un-intercepted. He locked all of his locks and then leaned against his door for a moment, taking in his silent and dark apartment. He realized he was starving because he'd barely eaten any of Jessica's terrible dinner so he changed into a pair of sleep shorts, choosing not to wear a shirt—his apartment was one of the only places he could have his cybernetic arm out in open without feeling uncomfortable—and fried up some eggs and toasted some pieces of white bread. He was too exhausted to do anything more strenuous than that. In fact, he was feeling so lazy that he ate straight out of the pan, leaning back on his couch and putting in one of the discs from Ari's Game of Thrones season 3 DVD set. He didn't watch much TV but he'd spent this whole year finishing up the book series that he'd started back when he barely knew Ari and he'd just recently started watching the whole show—and he admitted, it was addicting. Ari had watched a few episodes with him but when he got to season three, she'd suddenly stopped watching with him, a mournful look coming onto her face whenever he mentioned the Starks of Winterfell. He had a feeling it probably had something to do with the Red Wedding, which he knew was coming because he'd heard a spoiler somewhere. (Speaking of the Starks of Winterfell…Tony Stark had had a small heyday when he'd realized the Winter Soldier was a fan of Game of Thrones. He'd called Bucky and had slyly said, "So, does that mean I have the right to say…winter is coming?" He'd still been laughing when Bucky had metaphorically slammed the phone down by viciously jabbing the End Call button, scowling. Ari had laughed for days when he told her the story and he had regretted telling her ever since.)
Two episodes later, he shut the DVD player and TV off, leaving his dishes by the sink and heading to his bedroom. His heartbeat picked up speed despite himself and he balled his fists. He lowered himself onto his bed and took a deep breath. I'm going to sleep tonight, he commanded himself. Sleep the whole night through. Nothing will happen to me. True, he'd slept the whole day today—but he'd still been up for 48 hours and he could still feel exhaustion creeping up on him again. I'll be fine. Nothing will happen. He lay down and closed his eyes, trying to breathe normally and relax himself. He'd never fall asleep if he was this tense. Relax. It's just a normal night. Close your eyes—sleep—and wake up. Easy.
He should have known by now that nothing was ever easy for him. He fell asleep readily enough, true, but he woke up a mere hour later, drenched in sweat and trembling and gasping, salty tears glazing his cheeks as terrified sounds burst through his tightly clenched teeth. High keening noises and strangled, hoarse cries. And then he stayed up all night, unable to sleep, too terrified to try again, remembering all the blood and bodies of the people he cared about piled up in his nightmare. The images spun in a sickening cyclone in his mind and he covered his face with his hands, sitting as still as a statue until the sun began to climb in the sky again. Exhaustion weighed on him but sleep didn't come. He could only sit and breathe, trying not to let the terror and tiredness take over him. The same as he had done almost every other night for the past few months.
