Gianna's voice rang out across the stage, cutting through the air with the kind of intensity that only came from a woman scorned.

Her presence was different than before. Her eyes didn't twinkle, her smile wasn't audible in the way she sang, she didn't dance around the stage. There was no glitter, no pastels, no mistaking her for some kind of character from a fairytale.

This time, she was cold. Closed off. Her eyes were hardened, darker. There was no sign of a smile on her face, her pretty features icy even under the heat of the spotlights. She clutched the microphone with both hands, never removing it from the stand. Her eyes remained locked on the camera, gliding down the wire as it filmed her.

She knew, somewhere, he was watching.

"Wanda! WANDA!"

She jolted awake with a start, assessing her surroundings immediately. Steve and Natasha's worried faces hovered over her, with Peter's not far behind them. Pushing herself up on her elbows, she looked around the common room.

"What happened?"

Nat sat down on the couch next to her. "I think you were having a nightmare."

"You looked…upset." Steve frowned.

"That, and the lamp was floating," Peter added sheepishly, gesturing to the piece of decor in his hands. Thank God for spidey senses, or it would probably be shattered all over the floor.

Wanda rubbed her eyes with her hands. "Sorry guys, I haven't had one in forever." Feeling their worried gazes still on her, she forced a smile. "I'm good, promise. I just shouldn't nap after eating so much candy." Peter ducked as she threw an empty skittles bag at him.

Steve glanced at Natasha briefly before nodding, turning to Peter. "Alright, kid, let's get back to it. Someone's gotta show these recruits how to take a punch."

Groaning, Peter traipsed out the door after him. "Something tells me it's not gonna be you."

When the elevator doors had closed behind them, Natasha turned back to Wanda, the room silent. "Was this one like before?"

Wanda hung her head, replaying the scene in her head. "It felt…similar. It felt so real. But I don't understand, it doesn't make sense."

Nat put a hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently. "What happened? Who…who was the dream about?"

"It was Gianna." Wanda squeezed her eyes closed. "She was performing again. She looked…broken. Angry. I could feel her pain, it was overwhelming. She felt…alone." She looked directly at Natasha. "She felt abandoned."

"Care for some company?"

Gianna looked up from where she sat out on the balcony, watching the sunset across the lake. Her hair was damp from showering, staining the shoulders of her sweatshirt. She tucked her notebook behind her knees, hiding it from the subject of her writing.

"It depends, is the company as handsome as you are?"

Bucky grinned, looking down. It was almost painful how adorable she found his humility. Even after all this time, he still struggled to take a compliment, especially from her.

"Guilty." He sat down in the overstuffed patio chair next to her. "Didn't feel like going all the way down tonight?"

"I ate way too much lasagna for that kind of a trek," Gianna put a hand over her stomach, groaning. "Plus, I've gotta save something for the morning. I don't know if you've noticed, but my daily schedule isn't exactly overflowing."

"If you want, I can sign you up for a shift helping Sam train air agility." Bucky shrugged. "It's the most fun job in the whole place."

She raised an eyebrow, already seeing where this was going. "How exactly do you help him train air mobility?"

"Mainly by throwing things at him while he flies. Rocks, benches, tires, Peter…" He trailed off, chuckling as Gianna shoved him, giggling despite herself.

"Be nice!"

"Okay, okay, no training for you." He gestured to her notebook. "New song?"

"Wouldn't you like to know." She winked, holding it to her chest.

"Alright." He looked at her for a second before standing up and silently walking towards the doors.

"Wait, hey!" Gianna called after him. "Where are you going?"

He smirked over his shoulder as he pulled open the door. "Two can play at that game."

Moments later, he reappeared through the door holding a small black leather notebook and pen. She eyed him as he returned to his seat next to her, opening it without a single look at her. Clicking his pen, he began to scrawl onto the page.

"Are you making fun of me?" Gianna cocked her head to the side.

"Ah, I wouldn't dream of it."

She watched him write, a suppressed smile set on his stubbled jawline. After a moment, she clicked her own pen. "Fine."

They sat quietly for close to ten minutes, the scratch of pen on paper and rustle of wind in the trees filling the air. Unable to focus on her lyrics any longer, Gianna gave in. "Alright, I cave. I'm tapping out."

Bucky looked up at her innocently, pen still hovering above the page. "What do you mean?"

"Come on, you're clearly baiting me with something." She rolled her eyes. "Where did you even find that? Is it Peter's? If it's for one of his classes, he's gonna freak out when he sees it's gone."

"It's mine." He blinked.

She narrowed her eyes. Over the past few months, she'd gotten exceptionally good at reading his poker face. Either he'd leveled up recently, or…he wasn't kidding.

"If it's yours, then how have I never seen it?"

"I really only write in it at night." He shrugged. "You were either asleep on the bus or in your own room."

Her posture changed as the tone shifted from teasing to vulnerable. "What do you write about?"

"Oh you know," His smirk returned. "A list of everyone who's ever wronged me, the names of all the women I'm juggling, new things to throw at Sam…"

Gianna scoffed, smacking him with her own book. "I knew it, you're messing with me!" Bucky laughed, covering his head from her blows. She saw an opportunity and lunged, snagging the book out of his hand and jumping out of her chair.

"Wait - Gianna," He leapt after her, one step behind as she scurried to the corner of the balcony, the pages already open. Bucky breathed out, watching as her eyes began to process the words. Her smile sank, eyes flicking across the words.

Week two of tour. Tried fancy coffee, turns out it isn't bad. Hazelnut latte (if they ask what milk, say regular)

Gianna is different than I thought. Soft, kind. Funny. She made me play carnival games I haven't played since Steve and I were kids. I don't think she knew how much I enjoyed it. I need to be nicer to her. She tries so hard to make me feel welcome.

I think she's glad I'm here. I'm glad too.

She flicked a few pages ahead, heart pounding in her chest.

Remember - Gianna doesn't like rushed mornings. She said it makes her feel like she's on a hamster wheel. Can try waking her up earlier than scheduled so she can get coffee? Or I could bring it. I'll try tomorrow.

Also, Steve finally starting to admit he has feelings for Nat. Maybe they'll have it figured out by the time I get back.

She flipped ahead.

She asked me to stay with her. I know it's just because she's scared. I wish it wasn't.

I wish I could take away everything scary in her world. I don't want to see her cry ever again. I want to wipe her tears and keep away anything that threatens to bring them back.

And then I hope she still wants me to stay with her.

Gianna looked up, eyes brimming. She slowly lowered the book down and stepped to Bucky. He stood, tense, waiting for her reaction. Gently setting the book down on a chair, she stepped into his arms, wrapping him into a hug. He relaxed in her embrace, breathing out and resting his chin on her head. Her fists held bunches of his shirt as she clung to him, the last bits of evening sun warm on their skin.

Taking a deep breath, she pulled her head back and looked up at him. Her eyes were watery but crinkled at the corners, the way they always were when her smile spread across her face.

"I want you to stay."

He nodded, playing it cool as he looked over her head and soaked in the sunset. His lips were curled in the slightest smile as he panned the horizon, holding her. Finally looking down, his blue eyes settled on hers. "You can't take that back."

"Why would I ever want to?"

Finally, Bucky's grin broke through. He knelt down and picked Gianna up, hands grabbing the back of her legs and pulling them around his waist. She squealed in surprise as he spun her around, throwing her arms around his neck for stability. When he stopped turning, she put her hands on his cheeks, relishing in the feeling of his smile lines beneath her hands.

Gianna turned her head and ever-so-sweetly pressed her lips to his. The grin was still spread across his face, making her giggle into the kiss. After pressing several rapid-fire pecks on his lips, she pulled back and looked at him.

"I mean it," She tucked a strand of dark hair behind his ear. "Stay with me. Tonight."

His eyes flicked to hers, looking for confirmation. Gianna simply nodded, biting her lower lip.

That evening seemed to play out in slow motion. They'd rejoined the others inside, catching the tail end of whatever movie was playing. Neither Bucky nor Gianna could focus on anything besides each other. Sitting in the corner of the sectional, she leaned back into him, relaxing under the weight of his right arm draped across her. Nat leaned back into Gianna's knees, once again putting her feet into Steve's lap. For a brief moment during the movie, Steve turned to steal a glance at his best friend. Their eyes met over the heads' of the two women between them and Bucky grinned.

It had been so long, decades since they'd both been happy like this. Bucky wasn't even sure they'd ever both been in a relationship at the same time. Although he and Natasha liked to toggle between denying their relationship and choosing to accept their feelings, it was real to Steve and that made it real to Bucky. They were together, they both found someone to love them, they were safe.

It couldn't get any better.

When the movie had ended and the team split off to their own separate rooms, Gianna poked around the common space, making up reasons to be the last person still out. Bucky sat at the kitchen island, watching her straighten the pillows on the couch for the fourth time.

"You callin' it a night?" Steve put a hand on his back as he passed.

"Here in a few."

Looking from Gianna back to Bucky, Steve raised an eyebrow, grinning. "Ah. Sweet dreams." With that, he sidled into his room and shut the door behind him, leaving only two.

He could feel Gianna's gaze on him from across the room. Bucky stood from the barstool and crossed over to her, draping an arm over her shoulders. "What'd you think of the movie?"

"Shut up." She nudged his side. "Like you paid any attention either."

They spoke softly until they got to her door. Gianna's room was still pretty bare, the only decor she'd added being the vase of flowers he'd given her. It made him equal parts happy and sad, he made a mental note to get her something for the space. At least something for the bare walls.

"Just like old times." Gianna grinned as she crawled on the bed, perching on her knees.

"Feels like it was just yesterday." He sat on the edge, legs dangling off the side.

"Really?" She tugged on his sleeve, pulling him gently down to his back. "Because I feel like it's been a really, really long time."

Bucky raised his eyebrows, watching her lay down across his chest. She propped her head up with her hand and traced the letters on his t-shirt. He opened his mouth to speak but closed it without saying anything.

"Hmm?" She purred as she continued sliding her fingers across his chest.

"What?" Their voices were both soft in the quiet room.

"You were going to say something."

He closed his eyes and sighed, dropping his head back on the bed. "It was dumb."

"Well, now you really have to tell me."

Metal fingers pinched the bridge of his nose as he smiled sheepishly. "I was going to say it probably feels like just yesterday because I dream about this almost every night." He paused, eyes still closed. "But that would be a dumb thing to say, so I didn't."

"I don't think it's dumb," Gianna tugged his hand away from his eyes and planted a kiss on his fingers. "I think it's sweet."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Very. In fact, I'd love to hear what else you dream about?" Her voice was teasing.

"Mmm, I don't know if I'm ready to divulge that just yet." He pulled himself up to a sitting position, leaning back against the bed. Gianna looked up at him, head resting on his lap.

"I'm giving you kind of a green light to make a move here, Buck." She bit her lip.

"I know," He stroked her hair out of her face. "I keep telling you, I want to do this right, all of this. Believe me, I'd love t- there's a lot I'd love to do. A lot that I've dreamt about for a long time. But…you deserve the best. You deserve to know how special you are." Bucky reached for her hand and brought it to his lips, punctuating each word with a kiss. "And that…is very…very…special."

Gianna blushed, feeling his stubble scratch her hand as he kissed it. "If you insist on being perfect…" She rolled onto her elbows, looking up at him. "But if we're not going to spend our night that way, I have another request."

"Shoot."

"Can I read more?"

He paused, wanting to protest but being immediately disarmed by her wide eyes. "Sure."

For the rest of the evening, they sat in a comfortable silence. Gianna resumed her position on the bed, laying on her back with her head in Bucky's lap. He stroked her hair absently, watching her eyes flick across the pages full of his notes.

"Why do you write these?" She asked, turning the page. "I love that you do, but I wouldn't have pegged you as the type to keep a journal."

"It helps me remember." He cleared his throat. "Or, I hope it would. If I ever…if I ever need help again. I started it when I first got free, trying to piece it all together. It was such a hard thing, being a grown man and only having a few weeks' worth of memories. I didn't even know who I was." His eyes glazed over as he spoke. "I started to get bits and pieces of memories back, little by little. It wasn't always a full memory, just fragments. I'd write it down as it came back to me and then put it together. Even though I was free, I didn't know if I'd lose it all again. So I wrote it down."

Gianna reached up and cupped his jaw, rubbing her thumb over his cheek. "I'm so sorry for all you've had to overcome…but I'm so thankful you chose to do this to help yourself. Getting this glimpse into your mind is such a gift."

He laid his hand over hers, still cupping his cheek, and kissed her palm. "First and only person to ever get that glimpse."

She smiled, stroking his cheek one more time before returning her grip to the notebook. The entries were mainly from this summer and beyond, she assumed he had the other notebooks somewhere else. The earliest date was shortly before he got his assignment to work with her.

Wherever he found the trust to let her see this oh-so-vulnerable side of him, she wasn't going to take that lightly. Turning the page, she found reason after reason why she adored him so much.

Stan = when you support the relationship between two people. Ex: today, someone wrote that they "stan" Gianna and I. She said that means they think we're cute together.

I didn't think I would like being on tour. It's not so different from being at the compound. Besides the fact that we're in a different city every night, surrounded by press, and exposed to the world. The routines, the familiarity, the handful of people you actually know each day…I don't mind it. I miss the team. Most of them. Actually - all of them.

I'm glad Gianna and I get on so well. If she was anyone besides herself, I'd be counting down the days until it was over instead of counting the days I still have with her.

We go back to New York soon. I miss the city. Sometimes I think I'd like to live there again, but I remind myself it won't be like my childhood. That was - quite literally - decades ago. Brooklyn isn't my Brooklyn anymore. Hell, I wouldn't know if it was. I barely remember those days.

I like staying at the Tower. It feels safe, but still close to the city. I wish more of the team liked to stay there. I'd choose the company of the Compound over the Tower by myself any day. Something I never thought I'd say. It's nice to help train, too. I feel like I'm contributing something when I help with the agents. Putting something good back in the world.

I hope I'm doing that here. At least putting good in one person's world.

Something almost happened last night. Someone rushed the stage, I handled it. I think I scared Gianna. I was afraid to look at her face after I hit him. I don't want her to see me differently. But the truth is, I would let her watch me do much worse if it meant keeping her safe. Even if she was terrified of me.

She tried to be strong, but it scared her. It would scare anyone.

She asked me to stay with her. I know it's just because she's scared. I wish it wasn't.

I wish I could take away everything scary in her world. I don't want to see her cry ever again. I want to wipe her tears and keep away anything that threatens to bring them back.

And then I hope she still wants me to stay with her.

I saw Steve today. We got to run through the city. It almost felt like old times. I think it was better. He seems happy. I didn't get to ask about Natasha, I should have. I know there's something going on. Mark my words. I'll show them this page at their wedding.

He insisted I'm smitten with Gianna. I told him he's wrong. I enjoy being around her. She's great. That's all that there is.

I wonder if this page will come back to bite me too. I sincerely hope so.

She kissed me.

Tonight. At the Tower. In front of everyone.

In all the times I've been hit, nothing ever rocked me quite like that.

If this is all we ever get of each other…that's enough for me. If all I ever got from her was the look she gave me before she kissed me…that would be enough.

But, she was drunk. It might all end tomorrow. I should put it in a box and turn all of this off before it gets out of control. I know I should. Tonight, I'm choosing to remember the way she looked at me.

I wish I could write down every detail so I never forget it. Something tells me I won't either way.

Note - Gianna is from Charleston. I've never been. Maybe we can go back together.

I wish she didn't know how true loneliness felt. I wish we didn't relate on so much.

I wish we both had gotten to live more of our lives before they were taken from us.

Bucky felt Gianna's arm slip down onto her chest, the notebook still fanned out in her limp hand. She'd been fighting sleep for the past twenty minutes, continuing to read through heavy lids. Finally, she succumbed to her exhaustion, head still resting on his lap. He tugged the book out from her grip and set it on the nightstand beside him before turning off the lamp.

Slowly, gently, he tucked her under the comforter beside him. She barely stirred as he slid his right arm under her pillow and curled his body behind hers. As he laid his arm across her waist, he was careful to keep the full weight of the metal from resting on her.

Taking a deep breath, he let himself breath her in. She was right here, in his arms. She wasn't scared. She wasn't drunk. She knew exactly where he stood.

She still asked him to stay.