Chapter 2. Comfort

Content warning: Contains sexual content which may be unsuitable for readers under the age of 18. Reference to drug use.

Bucky re-entered the house a few minutes later, his back pack and jacket in hand. Before Lacey said anything to him he put a finger against his lips to stay quiet. Cocking his head slightly as if he was listening to something, he walked around the room like he was honing in on a signal. Approaching the bookcase he quietly pulled out several books until he found a small electronic device. After pouring a glass of water, he dropped the device into it. He cocked his head again and this time went into Lacey's bedroom. She followed him, watching silently as he looked up at her light fixture. Stepping onto her bed he reached his hand into the open bowl of the shade and pulled out another device, dropping it into the glass of water that held the first one. Lacey started to say something but he put his hand out again and walked throughout the house listening until he was satisfied there were no more.

"How did you do that?" she asked.

"I can hear a larger range of frequencies than most people," he replied. "As soon as I came in the house I knew there was a different sound and just assumed they planted something. I'm sorry about your brother."

Her lips trembled and she began weeping as she covered her face with her hands. Bucky put his arms around her, holding her, while rubbing her back with his right hand. He stood there with her for some time until her weeping began to subside and she reached for a tissue to blow her nose. As she sat on the couch he sat next to her, looking at her sympathetically.

"Were you and your brother close?" he asked.

"Yesterday was the first time I saw him in five years," she replied. "He fell in with a rich crowd in college and once he graduated kept hanging out with them, even working with a couple of them. Before he went to college we were pretty close."

Bucky listened without interrupting as she told him about her brother looking out for her during her teen years. Then she told him about the fun they had staying with their grandparents in this house, exploring the property and laying out under the stars until their grandparents would call them in to bed.

"It sounds like he cared about you," he stated softly. "Perhaps he left without saying anything to keep you safe. I can stay here for a while longer, in case anyone dangerous shows up."

"What about that boat to Europe?" She looked up at him. "Don't you want to get out of here as soon as you can?"

"There's always cargo ships going there," he replied. "Right now, I think you need someone to make sure you're safe."

"Why would you do that?" she asked, echoing his earlier question to her. "You don't know me."

He smirked then his face softened. "Matthew 25:35," he stated, "For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in. I'm not religious but my parents lived by that verse during the Depression from what I can remember. You helped me. I can at least repay that."

"Thank you," said Lacey. "I appreciate it."

His smile flashed again and Lacey felt her cheeks get warm. By his own admission Bucky had revealed he had a reputation with women and she could see why. Those blue eyes and brilliant smile probably got him into a lot of beds. Remembering the bloody bandages she emptied the garbage can from the bathroom into the kitchen garbage can.

"They didn't find these during their search," she said. "In fact, they never went into the bathroom at all."

Bucky pulled the bag out of the container. "Let me dispose of this," he said. "Don't want them to associate you with me."

He left with the garbage bag and didn't return for about ten minutes. For the rest of the afternoon they worked on fixing the windows as Lacey really didn't want to talk to her mother just yet. Bucky found caulking in the garage and seemed to know how to apply it to the windows so it was even. Lacey started painting the windows that didn't need the caulking and by the end of the afternoon had finished them. The upper windows had been sanded by Bucky who showed no fear of going up the ladder to deal with them, unlike Lacey who had put that chore off due to her fear of heights. He came back down and asked for the paint, which she handed to him gratefully. When he came back down from that task she noticed he had paint on his pants and offered to wash them again before the paint set. Remembering something she stepped into the house. He followed her inside and saw her pull the ladder down from the attic access door.

"I don't know why I didn't remember this earlier," she said. "My grandparents never threw anything away. There are boxes of clothes up here. I'm sure there's something that would fit you."

She went up and pulled on the dangling cord of the light bulb. It illuminated the dim and dusty space enough that she quickly found a box marked Clothing. Pulling the tape off she opened it and found a pair of overalls right away, handing them to Bucky.

"May I?" he asked, pulling the box over.

He went through, pulling out several pairs of work pants and T-shirts, as well as a few other things. The button up shirts were too small and he put them aside with a smile. Then he pulled up an old army uniform and looked at it.

"Your grandpa was in the army?" he asked.

"Korean War," she replied. "He was only 18 when he went over. He said it changed him, made him anti war." Bucky looked thoughtful and for a moment Lacey wondered if she had offended him. "Grandpa always compared later wars to World War II. He always thought we entered that one later than we should have. I think he just became more cynical about why they became involved in later wars. Said it always felt like they were manipulated into them."

"He wasn't wrong," replied Bucky, frowning. "I had a hand in setting some of those wars up. HYDRA thrived on chaos and used me to make it look like a war was the only way to deal with some of those situations. They tried to set themselves up as the answer to the chaos they sowed ... the chaos I sowed for them."

He turned his face away breathing heavily and Lacey stood up, moving to stand in front of him as he still knelt on the floor. At first he wouldn't look at her until she finally reached out and grasped his right hand, feeling the heat of it again.

"Don't," she said earnestly. "You didn't have control, they did and they used you as their blunt instrument. I've read some of their decrypted files on the internet and it's obvious they pulled the strings on a lot of what was wrong with this world. They're still out there but you're not going to let them control you any more. I respect that. You are a good man inside and that's what counts."

He raised his head and his blue eyes bore into her deeply. "If they catch me, they can still control me," he said quietly. "There are a series of activation words and all they have to do is say them so I become the Winter Soldier again, ready to do their bidding. I would do it without hesitation because that is how I was programmed."

His left hand gently touched her cheek. Unlike his right hand it was cold, and it's metallic surface felt strange against her skin. Then he dropped it and looked at the clothes he had pulled out.

"I'll take these," he said. "Thank you."

He gathered up the bundle, stood up, then descended the ladder. Lacey put everything else back in the box, turned out the light and went down herself. He was inside the spare bedroom with the door partially open and his shirt off to change into another shirt. She gasped when she saw the arm, realizing how it had been attached to his chest, shoulder, and back. The skin along the edge of the metal shoulder was angry, red, and covered in scar tissue. Approaching the door she gently pushed it open, looked at him with sympathy, as he looked back, almost ashamed.

"It hurts all the time, doesn't it?" she asked softly.

He nodded. "All the time," he replied. "It's integrated into my spine, my skeleton, and my muscles. It weighs more than a normal arm so it hurts my back and affects my gait. Even if I succeed in getting away I can't see how they will ever be able to remove it without damaging parts of my body. The prospect of a normal life with this isn't good."

Hesitantly Lacey approached him so she was standing in front of him. He bent his head to look down at her letting his hair fall over his face. Gently she touched the scarred skin that was adjacent to the shoulder portion of the arm. It felt even hotter than his hand had. She resisted the urge to touch his chest but she did look up at him.

"I'm sorry," she said sadly. "What they did to you was evil. I have no words of comfort except that I believe in you and hope that you find a way to live a normal life."

He was lightly licking his lips and once again she could feel her cheeks getting warm. Just as she was going to step back he put his flesh hand on her arm, locking his eyes with hers. She could have pulled away but she didn't want to and when he touched her lips with his she responded, opening her lips enough to feel his tongue on hers. The kiss was hesitant at first then became firmer as his other hand rested on her shoulder. Lacey felt a pool of warmth form inside of her, filling her with a desire for more. Just as she put her palms on his chest he suddenly released her and stepped back.

"I'm sorry, that was forward of me," he said, in barely more than a whisper.

She stepped back as well then practically ran out of the room and outside to the garage where she leaned against the work bench and breathed deeply, trying to get her bearings back. Never had she had a reaction to a man like that but then never had she met a man like him before, either.

"Get yourself together, girl," she said to herself.

When she came out of the garage Bucky had changed into a pair of the work pants and one of the T-shirts, which further accentuated his muscular physique. He was back up on the ladder again, painting the window trim.

"I've left my jeans on the table," he said, without looking at her. "I hope you can get the paint out."

She went inside, not wanting to betray how she was feeling. Using some dish soap and elbow grease she got the paint out then threw the jeans into the washer again with some of her clothes. Checking the time she pulled some steaks out of the freezer and defrosted them in cold water. While waiting for them to thaw she made a marinade and set it aside. Preparing some potatoes for baking she started the barbecue and put the potatoes in it to get them going. The steaks were thawed by then and she put them into a plastic bag, pouring the marinade in and distributing it. A prepackaged bag of coleslaw with the addition of some salad dressing made up the salad and she put it in the fridge. Turning around she was startled by Bucky standing in the doorway.

"I've finished painting the upstairs windows," he said. "Is there anything else I can do?"

"I was going to start cleaning the garage," she said. "Grandpa was a bit of a hoarder and I thought there might be some stuff in there I could sell. If you want to start that supper should be ready in about half an hour."

He turned away and she watched him walk to the garage, noticing how he walked. It was almost a swagger. When videos of him first surfaced on the internet there were many people commenting about the confidence it showed. Many called him a badass and he developed a bit of a cult following. Knowing what she knew now she could see how he was compensating for the weight of the artificial arm. All together it pointed to a man who was much more than what the media showed him. Her cell phone rang, showing her mother's number on the display. For a moment she considered whether to answer it but knew she would have to talk to her sooner or later. She answered it and almost regretted doing so immediately.

"Hi Mom," she said quietly. "You've heard from the FBI?" She listened to her mother and began to cry. "Don't yell at me! He just showed up unexpectedly, said he was in trouble and left before I got up this morning. I'm still dealing with it." There was still yelling from her mother and Lacey sat down, leaning her face into her hand. Then the yelling on her mother's end stopped and Lacey just cried for a time. "I know. It hurts. I need to do some things here before I come home for the funeral but I'll be there, I promise. Okay, I love you too."

She looked up and saw Bucky in the doorway. "Sorry, I heard you yelling, then crying," he said apologetically. "Your mom?"

Lacey nodded. "She needed to vent," she replied. "As the last person to see Tom alive I was the obvious choice. She wants me home for the funeral." He nodded in an understanding manner. "I might as well get those steaks on."

She went to the fridge and took the steaks out to the grill, laying them on. Bucky had noticed the beer in the fridge and brought two out, opening them both. He offered her one and took a drink of his.

"Can I ask you a question?" asked Bucky. "What were the FBI looking for when they were searching the house and property?"

"I don't know," she replied, frowning. "They never said and I was still stunned at Tom's death. Once I told them he had transferred the money to a secret account they changed his status from suspect to material witness. Maybe they were looking for something that pointed to the account."

"What did your brother do, job wise?" he asked.

"Stockbroker," she replied. "Why?"

"He would be pretty computer savvy, right?" he asked. "Do you think maybe he put the information on something and hid it here? I can't see a mobster killing him if he was the only source of where their money was hidden."

"He just showed up out of the blue," said Lacey, contemplating Bucky's words. "My grandpa built this house and there are all sorts of hiding places for his money since he didn't really trust banks. It's how I paid for his burial."

Lacey stood up as a thought hit her and went into the spare bedroom. She pulled a night table out of the way and knocked gently on the floor beneath it. One of the knocks sounded hollow and she tapped along the length of the piece of wood until it suddenly lifted up on one end. Lifting the wood she peered inside then placed her hand in and ran it around the interior. Her face changed and she pulled her hand out, opening it to show Bucky a flash drive. His face opened to a smile.

"You were right," she said. "Tom used to hide his stash here. I'm going to call Agent Jones. The longer this thing is here the more likely they're going to come looking for it."

She got back onto her cell phone and called the number on Jones' card. He didn't answer but the person who did said they would pass on the message and she could expect to hear from him. At first she was going to keep the drive but instead she put it back into its hiding place and replaced the wood then moved the night table back over it. Bucky offered her a hand up and they both went back out to the barbecue. About ten minutes later she heard back from Agent Jones who said he would send an agent to pick it up but it could be as late as the next morning before he got there. It wasn't exactly timely considering how eagerly the agent had the house searched.

"Well, let's hope that gives them the information they need to find Tommy's killer," said Lacey, as she tested the doneness of the steaks.

Bucky pulled the baked potatoes out with his artificial hand while she transferred the steaks to a plate. As she pulled the rest of the food out of the fridge he set the table. There was none of the awkwardness she had felt after the kiss when they sat down to the meal. While they were eating he looked at her questioningly.

"You said your brother hid his stash in that hiding place," he began. "What did you mean?"

"Weed," she said. "You know, pot, marijuana?"

"Reefer?" he asked, then laughed. "Why am I not surprised it's still around?"

"Did you try it back in the day?" she asked. "I don't anymore. It interfered with my writing."

"Maybe once or twice," he admitted, grinning. "It wasn't my thing, and was associated with criminals and musicians. It wouldn't affect me now anyways. My metabolism is so high that I burn off any intoxicants as soon as I ingest them."

They both laughed about it and she shared other transgressions of her youth while they ate. Bucky helped clean up, washing the dishes while she changed the sheets on his bed. Lacey excused herself to write in her room while he continued reading her book until it was dark then knocked on her bedroom door and announced he was going to sleep. Coming out of her room Lacey made sure the outside doors were locked and they both went to their separate bedrooms, wishing each other a good night. Several hours later Bucky heard whimpering and sat up in his bed. Listening carefully he could hear Lacey talking and crying in her sleep. Quietly, he got out of the bed and went to her room, his bare feet hardly making a noise on the wooden floor. He knocked but there was no response and he opened the door to Lacey moving restlessly in her bed while asking someone not to hurt him.

"Lacey," he whispered as he sat on the edge of her bed. "Sweetheart, you're dreaming. You're having a nightmare."

He stroked her arm and she grasped his hand forcefully as she sat up. "Don't hurt him," she pleaded, her eyes open wide in fear but still unfocussed.

"Honey, you're having a nightmare," he repeated, and stroked her hair, then cupped her face with his hand.

She blinked her eyes several times then seemed to wake up because she looked at him with recognition and started to cry. As she pressed her head into his chest he put his arms around her and held her, murmuring softly to her. Gently he stroked her hair then pulled away slightly so he could kiss her forehead. Their eyes met in the darkness of her room, with only the light of the quarter moon peaking through an opening in the curtains illuminating the space. This time he kissed her meaningfully, pressing his lips on hers as they both opened their mouths to let the other one in. He pulled her close into his body and she felt the heat radiating off of him, penetrating her skin. One of his hands threaded itself into her hair while the other went down her back to her bottom pressing her close into him. They both shifted position and Lacey found herself straddling his lap, facing him, their hips pressing into each other. Both of them were grinding against the other, desperately caressing the other over their clothes. Bucky pulled away first.

"This isn't a good idea," he said, breathing heavily. "You're vulnerable. I'm taking advantage of you."

"Just shut up," she said, as she peeled off her sleep T-shirt, exposing her body to him. "I want you."

He gazed at her for a few moments, noticing her lips were slightly open and her eyes were dark with desire. His lips found hers again and the thrust of her tongue against his filled him with a lust he hadn't felt for a long time. With purpose he bent his face to her breasts, mouthing them hard arousing her even further. He wore one of her Grandpa's old undershirts and she pulled it up over his head, running her hands over the outlines of his muscles then pressing her mouth over where she had just touched. Lifting her up he turned back to the bed and laid her down while he nestled in between her legs. He was heavy but used his artificial arm to prop himself up while he mouthed her neck and collar bone, all while continuing to grind his hips into hers. She could tell that he was big, based on the hardness she felt through the old pyjama bottoms he was wearing. A pool of heat had settled in her core and she knew how wet she was in anticipation of having him inside her.

"Do you want me?" he asked in a low voice that dripped with desire. "I want to taste you first, make you ready for me."

"Yes ... please," she added, suddenly feeling needy.

He sat up in a kneeling position and pulled her bottoms and panties off at the same time, then ran the flat of his hand over her body, moving it down to where her heat was gathering. Spreading her legs further apart he bent over and flicked her with his tongue, making her gasp.

"Sweet and salty," he whispered, as he looked at her from between her legs. "Just how I like it."

He buried his face into her again and she could feel his tongue on every part of her, exploring and pleasuring her.

"Fuck, he's good," she thought.

More moans came out of her lips when he used his fingers expertly making her come closer to orgasm. Then he made one more move with his tongue and she cried out as she felt the rush explode from within her. Her hands were all over herself before finding his hair and grasping it, pressing him deeper into her. Then he raised his head and placed his flat hand on her pubic mound massaging it gently. Wave after wave of pleasure radiated up and down her legs as she experienced the echoes of the bliss she felt just moments before. He laid between her legs again, using his artificial arm to take much of his weight off of her and kissed her sensuously, transferring her taste onto her tongue. Then he watched her but didn't say anything, waiting for her to speak first.

"Your reputation is well deserved," Lacey finally said. "I've never ..." She couldn't finish the thought as she became lost in the large dark pupils of his eyes.

"We're not done," he said simply, then he looked down at himself briefly. "Don't be afraid. I'll take my time entering you and let you adjust."

"What do you mean?" asked Lacey, with just a hint of concern.

"Touch me," he ordered, and guided her hand down to his crotch.

Hesitantly she felt over the top of the pyjama bottoms, feeling his hard cock, big in both length and girth. She almost pulled away but instead she stroked him and he smiled dreamily at her. Then he raised himself up off the bed and pulled the bottoms off revealing himself to her. She swallowed nervously as he was the biggest man she had ever seen.

"There's lube in the night table," she suggested. "It might help."

Smiling knowingly he opened the drawer and found the bottle pouring some into his hand and smoothing it over himself. He wiped the remainder off on the undershirt and returned to kneeling between her legs. Lowering himself onto her he watched her face intently as he guided himself into her still wet and warm entry.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered. "I watched as you came and you made my breath catch. I want to make you come again with me in you. You tell me if it's too much. I don't want to hurt you."

As he got deeper into her Lacey couldn't help but hold her breath, as he filled her up tightly. Once he was in all the way he came out and thrust himself into her again. It was uncomfortable at first then as she got used to it she began to respond to him, raising her hips to meet him.

"Fuck," she whispered. "You're huge."

"Yeah," he agreed. "Side effect. You're taking me well. I can feel every part of you and it feels good."

Bucky began to press harder into Lacey bringing moans out of both of them. While he pumped he continued to kiss and mouth her neck and breasts, with the occasional deep kiss. Each thrust was like no other encounter she had ever had, pressing on all the pleasure spots at once. She could feel the pressure building in her and pressed herself onto his girth, trying to find the spot that would accelerate her coming. With a smile, he used his thumb to stimulate her and she was suddenly there crying out in loud gasps as she came again with him in her. Her cries spurred him and she could feel Bucky swell inside of her as he came loudly, thrusting hard several times to empty himself into her. As his erection slowly softened she began to kiss him sensuously, reluctant to end what had been one of the most satisfying sexual encounters of her life. He caressed her gently, also wanting to prolong the tryst they had just shared.

"Are you okay?" he asked, as he pulled out and laid on his side. "Did I hurt you?"

"No, it was incredible," she replied softly. "Were you always this good, with sex?"

He smiled self-deprecatingly. "Every man likes to think so," he admitted. "I was popular with the ladies. Back then I think it was more because I didn't kiss and tell. I guess since this side effect of the serum treatment, my size probably has more to do with it. They equated a man's size with his virility and had big hopes for me."

He looked away for a moment, uncomfortable with the subject matter. "Bucky, this was amazing, even before you were in me," she offered. "I'm on the pill, by the way, no worries about pregnancy."

He smirked in a way that seemed sad. "That's okay," he replied. "I'm supposed to be sterile. They wanted me to breed super soldier babies and no one got pregnant, so they figured I was a dud as a stud."

She looked at him with concern, appalled to hear how he described it. "Is that how they told you?" she asked, incredulous.

He shrugged. "Not to my face," he replied. "Except to be told what a disappointment I was. Don't worry about it. I'm glad no one got pregnant or else they would have a bunch of indoctrinated kids with super soldier abilities doing their bidding." Lacey snuggled up to Bucky and placed her head on his chest, intertwining their legs. "Am I sleeping here tonight?"

She whispered yes and he put his arm around her, kissing her forehead. They both fell asleep easily.