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A chapter from my book The Winter's Shadow which you can read on AO3
Spring - Avengers Tower, Manhattan, New York - May 7, 2022
The time was glaring Bucky in the face, the taunting red numbers annoying him to no end. It was another sleepless night for him and he knew any attempt to get some rest was useless. And so, he groaned, pressing his pillow firmly into his face before he rolled out of bed. The tower was silent as he padded noiselessly down the hall.
The team was out on a weekend assignment, leaving only himself and Carmen. Under the presumptions she was locked in her room, as the pair frequently were, he determined his journey to the kitchen to be a safe venture. It wasn’t until the soft and timeless voice of the elusive recluse flooded out of his destination’s doorway that he realized he was wrong.
She was singing intimately to herself, low and quiet, and the ancient but familiar sound stopped him abruptly. He hadn’t noticed it had knocked the breath out of him until he found himself sucking in a sneaky breath, pressing himself flat against the wall. Bucky squinted his eyes as he followed the words, never admitting to himself that he was stalling to savor each delicate note.
Got an angel on my shoulder
And I found a four-leaf clover
And I put it in my locket
Wished on all the stars above me
And I caught the nearest rainbow
Gonna find someone to love me
Gonna find someone to love
The clank of dishware pierced over her voice, the rolling of the drawers and the shink of Tony’s expensive silverware joining, but her lyrics never lingered as she bustled through the kitchen, preparing one of her signature midnight monstrosities.
Well I tossed a lot of nickels in the wishing well
And saved the fortunes that the fortune cookies tell
I got a lucky penny and a mustard seed
But a warm and tender love is all I need
And I want a love that lingers
And a strong one through and through
So I'm gonna cross my fingers
That I'll find a boy who loves me true
And I'm gonna love him too
Coward was never a word to describe Bucky Barnes, but certainly, many similar terms could be pinned on him when affronted with the very woman he was most definitely hiding from as he stuck like glue to the wall outside the kitchen. His breath was slow and even, but his heart was pounding. If the team saw him now, he’d look like a total idiot, the thought bouncing in his head which he shook away to gather himself. They seldom truly spoke to one another aside from bitter remarks and stale small talk when it wasn’t business, and there was no reason to believe it would be any different this time. So after a few moments of composing his strength and patience, he appeared in the kitchen.
Her back was to him, wrestling with a scooper in a tub of mint chocolate ice cream and clad in a fuzzy, black robe covering, what he assumed to be, her signature black, satin romper. With her long, dark curls twisted into a tight bun, she was a sight of chaotic beauty. Her pale skin was soft despite the years of abuse and scars always seemed to hold a certain delicacy when placed upon her skin.
She seemed unaware of him, but he knew she had sensed him.
“I never took you for the love song type.”
His back pressed against the frame of the doorway as his arms crossed in front of him. He figured he would start a conversion, give himself the advantage in case one started anyways, but he chastised himself for his choice of subject.
Great job, Barnes, admit you were listening and be snarky.
To his surprise, nothing in her seemed bothered: no tensing of her shoulders or straightening of her head.
She just carried on with her preparations, shrugging as she deadpanned, “I was going to say, ‘I never took you as the stalker type,’ but that wouldn’t be true, now would it?”
He hadn’t realized she let out a small scoff before she spoke and it wasn’t until he made the same sound himself that it connected for him. She had just laughed at something he said. NOt the sarcastic kind, no, genuine, amused laughter.
She scoffed, idiot, she wasn’t rolling on the floor.
Bucky shook the intrusive thought away, preferring his own interpretation. When it came to the matter of Carmen, especially with him, that was close e-damn-nough to laughter. He observed her silently for a moment, but after watching her pour an ungodly mountain of crushed soft peppermints and caramel sauce into her bowl, he could no longer remain quiet.
“What in the absolute hell are you concocting?”
“Probably the best thing I ever made,” she paused for a moment, thinking, before she propped up a finger, “Well, maybe not, but it’s up there.”
She slid a pan over and scraped a slice from the leftover chocolate ganache pie Tony had bought two nights before, slamming it on top of the scoops.
“Pie in ice cream,” she finally turned to him, nodding towards the bowl as she began to smush the slice into the mint chocolate, “there’s a difference.”
With a hum of approval, she slid the dessert across the island towards the barstools before she gasped and dove into the cabinet. Gingerly plucking the container of instant coffee, she tipped it over and dumped an unhealthy serving onto her pile of sugar. Finally satisfied, she swung her legs onto the counter and slid off the other side, landing on a stool and barely gripping the counter to stop her from tipping backward onto the floor. She did all with such elegant grace that it made him stare in wonder at her movements.
She was very quick to shovel a bite into her mouth, a look of bliss overtaking her features as she groaned softly. He was still just staring, a look of admiration contemplation set gently on his weary face, and she soon caught on to the steady gaze.
Lifting her face from her ravaging, she furrowed her brows briefly, nodding once more to the bowl, “Want some?”
His arms dropped from his chest, taking a few steps forward into the kitchen as he looked to the hall and back with incredulous wide eyes.
“Are you actually, willingly offering me your food?”
She placed her spoon down with a clank and met his eyes. He could finally see the exhaustion in her, her usually piercing eyes duller.
“I doubt you came in here to eavesdrop on love songs,” she began, and he remembered just how easy she could read him, “It’s just one of those nights. We’re in here for the same reason.”
Bucky was leaning against the counter now, elbows resting on the marble.
“Sitting in bed and staring at the wall is a waste of time. Making ice cream that could put me in a sugar coma? So much better.”
Carmen spoke with amusement, but he could see past it and into the sadness that lurked there. This time, oddly enough, she wasn’t hiding it.
“You’re being uncharacteristically honest.” Barnes was skeptical of her sudden openness, and he knew something was out of the ordinary.
Lifted from the chair beside, glass included, was the ornate bottle of Asgardian mead Thor had gifted to those of the team who were immune to anything else. The corner of her mouth was lifted upwards in a sideways smirk as she clacked it onto the counter.
“Guilty as charged,” she was pouring herself another drink, the number of which he did not know, “It’s my truth serum. Might make me a little too honest.”
He nodded silently as she added with a point to her midnight snack, “Offer still stands.”
They looked at each other for a moment, wordless, and with a finally relenting shrug, he sighed an “Okay,” and pushed away from the marble.
“You know where the spoons are.”
He made quick work to the seat beside her, allowing ample space between their elbows as she slid the bowl in between them.
The first bite was truly, and unexpectedly delicious, but his composure never waved as they picked at the dessert.
“I think this is the most pleasant interaction we’ve ever had since we got here,” Bucky joked, but she knew there was a genuineness to his statement.
“Power of alcohol, huh?” Her gaze dropped to her lap and an emptiness darkened her expression.
The flat attempt at lightheartedness slowed his response as he watched her profile.
“Sure,” he spoke quietly, unsure of what she could possibly say.
“We don’t usually get along. We both know that. But honestly? I’m afraid to look at you. I was afraid that when I did, I was just going to see everyone else.” She paused, swallowing dryly as a sad scoff puffed from her lips. “Now, I’m scared that it’s the complete opposite. When I look at you, the only thing I see is you.”
Bucky’s whole body froze, his breath catching in his throat at her last words. He could feel his heartbeat in his ears as his mouth went dry and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t focus his mind enough to form a reply.
Carmen, however, seemed unphased and unaware of Bucky’s ever-intensifying emotions, throwing back another shot, and continuing her ramblings.
“You know what else? I’m terrified to sleep alone, because every time I close my eyes, I feel like they’re right there, just waiting.” She shook her head and laughed at herself. “It’s so stupid. I’ve faced some of the worst things this world has to offer and I’m afraid to go to sleep.”
“I don’t think it’s stupid,” Bucky’s voice was unsupported as he finally pulled himself from his stupor, clearing his throat and shoving another spoonful into his mouth.
Carmen turned to him, an unreadable expression on her face before a smile tugged at the corner of her delicate lips and she nodded with a soft laugh, “Sober me is going to kill me.”
“I don’t think you’ll be the only one she’s after.”
They chuckled together as she stared absentmindedly at the bowl in front of them. A few seconds of silence passed before she spoke again with a shrug.
“But I’d rather be honest now, finally pass out, and forget everything in the morning than go in everyday thinking like that and never saying a word. It sucks, you know? That we can’t just say what we need to say, always walking around with a million thoughts in our heads and never getting to deal with them. I’m sick of being silent. And I’m sick of being too much of a pussy to do anything about it.”
For the second time, Bucky was speechless.
“At least now I can hide behind my alcohol.”
Running from her admissions, she cracked a joke and nudged his arm as her tired, hooded eyes met his. Her cheeks were flushed from the drinks, the tips of her ears dusted a light cherry. She was beautiful, and Bucky found himself lost on her vibrant, plump lips. At first, he thought it was his boyish imagination playing tricks when it seemed Carmen slowly began to lean for him. But as her eyes began to flutter, lips parting ever so slightly, his heart caught in his throat. He couldn’t do this, it wouldn’t be right. She was drunk and definitely wouldn’t be leaning in to kiss him if she wasn’t plastered. It would be entirely wrong of him to go along with it, even if maybe he...wanted to.
His cheeks flushed red-hot, first at the thought of things, but soon exasperated at the realization that he’d been wrong when her face missed his and her forehead rammed softly into his shoulder with a dramatic sigh.
“I’m so tired,” she mumbled into the fabric of his shirt.
“I’m such an idiot,” he hissed into the void of his own mind.
Boy, was he carrying the torch for her...
“You should get some sleep,” he finally cracked out, clearing his throat and pushing away an intrusive thought that tried to plague him.
Another sigh and she pushed herself harder into him, nearly slipping out of her chair if he hadn’t caught her. A tired giggle slipped past her lips.
“Carry me,” was all she said, snacking her arms around his neck a she turned her head, warm breath fanning over his skin and sending a shiver down his spine.
She always was a little demanding when she was drunk.
In all honesty, he wasn’t sure if she’d make it to bed on her own. And so, he complied, taking a deep and calming breath before leaning her out of her chair and slipping an arm under her legs. Carmen groaned something incoherent but didn’t stir, laying still in his grasp as Bucky made his way out of the kitchen, minding her dangling feet in the doorways. He made quick work of the trip to her room, holding his breath in the uncomfortably quiet elevator, and walking briskly to her room. It was a bit of a juggle opening the door, but he managed, making his way gingerly through her tidy space. The ridiculous sheer presence of her bed still amused him to this day. She indulged on nearly nothing when they first moved to the tower, except for her bed. It was enormous, grandiose even, with more pillows than he could count in all different shapes, sizes, and styles. The comforter was black and full, with a few decorative blankets tangled within it. A mess as it always was, she never made it.
Gently, he laid her onto the bed, chuckling softly as she shoved her blankets out from underneath her with her feet and grasped tiredly for them. Bucky bent to grab them and pulled them to her hands. After she’d yanked them up to her chin and snuggled up with a soft, drunken smile, he found his services no longer needed and turned to leave. He was almost to the door when her soft and timid voice kissed his ears. And to think he’d almost missed it.
One word, full of trepidation and earnest.
He’d stopped short, turning to see her shadowed face, his heart pounding again. She’d sat up, her hand reaching out lazily to him as she whispered once more.
“I don’t want to be alone.”
He couldn’t say no to her. It was as if his wild heart had taken over his mind and already decided for him. He had to stay for her. With a soft sigh and a dry swallow, he returned to her bedside, awkwardly perching at the foot of her bed.
“Lay down,” she grumbled into the silence, lightly kicking his back, “It’s weird if you’re just sitting there.”
Bucky chuckled quietly, taking a deep breath before he carefully shifted. He was careful to mind her space as he reclined, but she had no such caution, scooting herself flush to his side with a happy wriggle and little grin. When he turned to his face to see her, she was inches from him, glossy doe eyes locked on him.
He raised his brows at her stares, eliciting a drunken giggle from her lips as she sighed out, “You’re just pretty when you’re embarrassed.”
And with a sloppy boop of his nose, Carmen was out like a light, leaving Bucky wide awake. His cheeks were burning, neck flushed red as his heart pounded in his ears, a warmth spreading out from his chest in the silent dark of the night.
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