Summary: In the dead of night you find Bucky lost and alone in the rain. So you bring him home.
Warning(s): Angst at the beginning but fluff at the end. Brief Self-hatred and indirect mentions of insomnia.
Author Note: So I got this idea after reading issue #5 of the 2016 Thunderbolts comic, I did use two lines from that issue, so they'll be in bold.
Rain pelted the city streets in the dead of night. For the city that never sleeps, the streets were uncharacteristically empty. Bucky kept his head down as he wandered and let the cold seep into his bones. So cold. He shoved his hands deeper into the pockets of his jacket, the black leather provided little protection from the rain. Bucky's soaked clothes held him in a vice grip which practically froze him from the outside in.
The soldier couldn't remember how long he'd been walking. Had it been minutes, or a couple hours maybe? Had Bucky Barnes been anything other than a super soldier, he would have caught hypothermia by now. Even if he did he would think of it as a blessing. Anything to make him feel.
“Where are you even going?” A voice inside mocked.
It wasn't enough to make him stop.
“It's not like you have anywhere to go.”
The soldier's conscience wasn't right but it wasn't wrong either. Bucky had Steve, had the Avengers compound, and hell he even had Sam to fall back on. Steve already lost countless nights of sleep to help Bucky through his nightmares. He couldn't burden him with another, he just couldn't. Even if Steve used “I'm with you till the end of the line” on him, he couldn't.
Bucky passed a bar next and for a solid minute he lingered by the door. The warmth and smell of booze in the air invited him in, invited him to drown his woes in liquor. Under his breath he cursed the serum in his veins for robbing him of the luxury. With a sad shake of the head, tired eyes aimed ahead, and he started moving again.
Raindrops pierced his skin like thousands of needles, it hurt and he let it. Bucky let it because he needed to feel something, anything. Hunger tore at his gut and left him to wonder how long it had been since he ate. Days, a week at most, to be honest he lost count. Again, Bucky let himself go hungry because it made him feel. That's all he cared about. Something to anchor him to the present and keep him out of the past. Out of the horrors of his own mind.
You noticed Bucky before he noticed you. Under the safety of a red umbrella your eyes squinted in the dim street light, from a distance he looked familiar, “Is that-”
When your voice called out to him it sent a knife of guilt straight to his heart. He spat a curse under his breath, the last thing he wanted was to be spotted. Let alone spotted by someone he knew. You worked with the Avengers, sort of. Sam had been your best friend since childhood, when you lost your job three months ago Sam helped you get back on your feet. It didn't take much convincing, but he talked Tony into giving you a rather peculiar job.
In a manner of speaking you were the Avengers grocer, since a number of the Avengers didn't wear masks, they could easily be identified by the public eye. So Tony hired you to go on a weekly grocery run. He would give you a list, an obscene amount of money, and told you to keep what you didn't spend.
You also helped around the Compound where you could, usually doing simple tasks like cleaning and sometimes laundry. Steve considered you a godsend since he normally picked up after everyone. Despite the distance he gave you at first, Bucky had been nothing but kind to you. To see him alone in the rain was a little jarring.
“No. Stop it.” His lip curled in a snarl and his hands tugged at his hair. “Stop feeling sorry for yourself, you stupid selfish fool.”
“Bucky?” You called to him again when you got closer. “It's the middle of the night, what are you doing out here?”
He glanced up at the umbrella as you held it over him, with a shrug he sighed, “Couldn't sleep. Figured I'd go for a walk.”
“Are you okay?” The warm smile you offered flipped with worry.
Three words - it took three simple words to break his resolve. The invisible noose around his neck pulled tight and his tongue turned to sand. No, no he was far from okay. He couldn't even bring himself to cry, everything just felt so numb. Bucky wanted to run away but he could only run so far from himself. The harsh reality was the soldier could never shake the guilt in his heart.
Wet brunet strands hid his face like curtains, his words turned to gravel in his throat, “No. I uh, I guess I'm not.”
It hurt your heart to see the man so lost, so broken.
“Do you wanna come with me?” You held your hand out with a soft smile. “Get outta this rain and warm up some?”
With great reluctance Bucky followed you to your apartment, he stood awkwardly in the entryway, shivering at the contrast of his cold body and your warm apartment. You told him to wait while you grabbed a couple towels for him, which you tossed into the dryer so they would be extra warm. Upon your return Bucky had moved from the door in favor of the window, steel blue eyes glanced over the moonlit city.
You draped one of the towels over his shoulders, “The bathroom is the first door on the right if you want to take a shower. If you leave your clothes outside the door and I can put them in the dryer.”
“Thanks,” He muttered and pulled the towel tighter like a security blanket.
“I'm gonna make some soup, which I won't be able to eat all by myself,” You glanced over your shoulder on your way to the kitchen. “Do me a favor and eat some too? I'd hate for the sink to eat it.”
Bucky saw through the game you tried to play, begrudgingly he agreed, and disappeared into the bathroom a moment later. Maybe a hot shower wouldn't kill him. His sudden reappearance all but five minutes later took you by surprise.
“Oh good god,” You gasped and clutched your heart. “Sam is right you do need a bell.”
The soldier perked a brow in silence.
You waved a dismissive hand, “The uh, the soup is almost ready. You can wait in the living-room and I'll bring it to you.”
Bucky nodded and hunkered down on the couch, silently regretting that he'd basically snuck out of the compound. He purposefully left his phone in his room so Steve wouldn't call him wondering where he was. He should have told someone.
“The bowl is hot, so be careful,” You warned. He nodded in thanks and the two of you ate in comfortable silence. You watched Bucky carefully, his face was sunken in, and dark bags hung under his eyes. A slight tremor shook his hands which contradicted his stiff shoulders. Whatever demons the soldier fought were taking a toil on him.
You tilted your head, “Do you wanna talk about it? Whatever's bothering you.”
“Not really,” He grumbled.
“That's not healthy ya know,” Your words were oddly soothing. “I promise, whatever you say won't leave this room.”
After a period of heavy contemplation, the walls Bucky had up cracked. He looked so tired, tired of fighting, tired of existing. The metal thumb of his left hand traced the rim of the bowl as he tried to sort his words.
“I keep trying to escape it, but I can't. Bucky the lone wolf, Bucky the killer...the winter soldier.” The self-hatred in his voice made your heart drop to the deepest pit of your stomach.
You wondered how he couldn’t see it, how deep down inside, he was none of those things. A warm and gentle hand laid atop his, “I don’t believe any of that. James Buchanan Barnes is a good man, you are a good man.”
Bucky stared at your joined hands in silence while he let the words marinate in his mind. The void of empty emotion hit him all over again. With a shaky breath, Bucky hung his head, and rested his forehead against the back of your hand. You watched the soldier with a heavy heart and scooted a bit closer to put your arm around him. He flinched at the touch yet sank into it all the same.
“Is there anything I can do to help?” You murmured, voice low and soothing.
The soldier shook his head as he buried himself in your touch, his arms came around your waist, and he hid his face in your shoulder. The warmth and scent that radiated from you put him at ease. For the first time in years Bucky felt like he could breathe. No more than a second later disgust twisted his gut at the thought of taking advantage of you and the kindness you offered. The soldier flung himself from your arms like the slightest touch would burn him.
Pain squeezed his heart and panic filled his veins, “I can’t I- I have to leave.”
“What? Bucky, no!” You chased after him in his retreat to the door. Without thinking you threw your arms around his waist and buried your face in his back. “Please. Don’t go?”
His upper lip rippled in a snarl and his hands clenched to fist, the knob of your door dented and mangled under the pressure of his metal fingers. Why couldn’t he bring himself to tell you no? Why did the tremor in your voice tighten the noose around his neck? Bucky spun in your arms at such a speed and with such force you stumbled backward, but didn’t fall, no. No, the metal arm that came around the small of your back wouldn’t let you. The pad of his human thumb brushed across your cheek as steel blue eyes stared straight into your soul.
“Bucky?” One of your hands curled around his wrist in a delicate hold.
A spark of hesitation lingered in the back of his eyes, the knot in his throat bobbing as he swallowed. “I don’t want to take advantage of this, your hospitality.”
“You’re not,” You affirmed while shaking your head. “I promise. Just- just stay, please?”
There was no denying the heat that set your cheeks ablaze, especially not when his thumb smoothed over it. He sucked in an unsteady breath, god, how could he say no to you? The soldier let you pull him to the couch where you sat him down and stood between his knees, fingers pushing the brunet strands away from his eyes. His hands grabbed your hips and pulled you close. He needed to feel you against him. To feel your supple thighs straddled across his lap and the rhythm of your heart beat in time with his. Bucky needed to know you were real and you wanted him as much as he wanted you.
“Are you uhm,” You tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “Are you comfortable? We can-”
Rather than answer with words Bucky brushed his lips over yours, he kept still, and gave you the opportunity to pull back. The way his baby blues flickered from your eyes to your lips and back again. You knew he didn't want you to pull away.
You hands gripped his shoulders, “Bucky? Can I kiss you?”
“Please,” He nearly begged.
The kiss didn't come as expected. He stayed stiff as a board but softened and got more confident when your arms hooked around his neck. His heart fluttered like a bird in a cage, when you broke the kiss, you watched his sad eyes flicker with disbelief. Like he didn't believe someone could be unafraid of his broken parts and be capable of loving him. Bucky became fascinated by you.
With gentle guidance you pulled him over you and laid down on the couch. You held his head against your chest, fingers combed through his hair which forced a pleasant sigh from his lungs.
Bucky squeezed your waist, “I just want to sleep. It's been two weeks.”
“It's okay,” You soothed, rubbing the space between his shoulder blades.
The soldier all but turned to putty in your hands, his muscles slacked and you felt him relax under your gentle caress. Without really thinking about it, you started to hum while stroking his hair, absentmindedly thinking it might help him loosen up.
You didn't account for it and Bucky's weight to put you to sleep. Which you assume is what happened since a chime from your phone coaxed you out of dream land. By some miracle you managed to reach your phone on the coffee table. A text from Sam illuminated the screen.
[Hey, I know it's late, so sorry to bother you. Cap said his "Bucky senses" were tingling and sure enough we can't find tin-man anywhere. Have you seen him?]
You glanced down at the soldier using your chest as a pillow and responded to the text. [He's with me.]
Making sure the flash was off, you lifted your phone high enough so you could take a picture. Sending it to Sam with a grin.
[You can have him back in the morning ❤]
After setting the phone back on the coffee table your heart skipped a beat, Bucky's arms pulled you tighter, and a low grumble shook his chest. For a split second you were afraid you'd woken him up, but he settled after a few moments.
“If that picture comes back to haunt me you're in for it,” His voice was deep with sleep but there was a hint of amusement in his words.
You rolled your eyes and rested your cheek back against his hair, “It can wait till morning, go back to sleep.”
A simple grunt served as your only response, but you could feel his smile as he hid his face in the crook of your shoulder.
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