Chapter 1
The sun flared, peaks of Light whisking from it's core.
It's the closest they've been back to earth in a while, their latest mission taking them to, as sci-fi novella as it gets, Neptune; the gaseous planet currently used unwillingly as a base for a stubborn rebel pilot.
Felt bad for the blue planet, boarded & trespassed upon, the gas itself, the blaring neon signs.
Light erupted.
Neon signs.
One of the greatest ones was the fact that he, very obviously, hasn't slept in a few days.
Bucky sat in his room.
No naps; just can't sleep.
Knew it was because they were in their system, the knowledge like a sick, slow poison.
Tried to tell himself that.
Hated himself more for keeping "PRIVACY" on like some little kid in his room.
Could honestly feel Steve & Sam from all the way in this outer orbit, as he wouldn't take any calls; just sent a few in-room messages saying "I'm fine", "Just need some space. All puns intended."
Got back "Good to see you still have your humour. Just take care of yourself Bucky." to "It's okay to admit it Buck."
Even someone who didn't know Steve as well as him, could guess which was his. Because it's the kind of thing Bucky would say to him, situation reversed (wouldn't wish his worst enemy in this however).
Daisy even sent a few notes, all saying to please get rest, as she had been monitoring his vitals. There was a way to override it but wouldn't dream of it.
The sun reached out again.
If he wanted to be entirely honest with himself, it was a nightmare that was keeping him up, another neon sign ignored. Akin to someone closing their eyes & pretending the giant ball of light outside, didn't exist.
He'd had it when they entered into their system, old haunts attempting to try his head even further.
Wanted to lie down, but couldn't get himself to.
Wasn't even a nightmare. Just...
The sun continued it's geysers.
It was a random night, a handful of years ago. He woke up, his mind knowing, but his body confused.
Remembers asking her "You awake?". The guilt pang for it, still echoing into now.
She turned to him, her face slightly worried. "James?..." Saw his eyes like warning signs, the sentence itself concerning.
Sat up, placing her hand on the small of his back. "...What happened?"
Couldn't get himself to reply, whatever he dreamed, still trying to keep him there. Once again, her touch, an anchor.
Spoke quietly, both out of shame, and that that was all he could get his body to do. "Had to make sure you were real." His mind wants to default to Russian to cover the raw bareness of it, but can't get himself to do it, the Russian words still locked in place from the dream.
She placed a kiss on his back, before putting another a little lower, the shivers up his spine rushing life back to him.
Natalia slowly laid her head against his spine, stayed for a few moments.
She then carefully eased him back down, his eyes locking into hers, & she mirroring it.
"You're here. Same as I am. & you're not going anywhere."
Controls his breathing, finally able to talk again. "...I'm sor-"
"Stop."
He shut up, his eyes saying it over & over to the forests of her own.
"I know. But-"
"Then you know you don't have to." Says it in her sight, but utters it, because she knows. "You have nothing to apologize for. You don't get to stop me from saying it, if you get to, James." Smiled and it was like life rushed back, the clutch of the nightmare; gone.
"[How did I deserve you?]"
"Because you're a good man." Pauses. "[Argue with me, and you'll never step foot in another pancake house for as long as we both live.]"
"That's mean."
"& you're stubborn." She kid back, knowing he was back home.
...What kept him up wasn't the memory. They put a new wound each time, but he'd made that decision the moment he walked out of the hospital.
What's kept him up for 3 days straight, wholeheartedly, was he was scared he didn't do enough.
Scared that we didn't Thank her enough (He did, his rational self replied)
Didn't do enough (That's an even bigger pile of crap)
...Didn't tell her (She'd kick your ass for thinking it).
Knew each point was a lie, and she would say the same.
Just making pain, with more pain, insomnia making him irritable.
The sun continued it's dance.
Bucky laid down, trying to resist closing his eyes.
(You need sleep, her voice echoed.)
Swore he felt her hand on his arm.
(Stop being stubborn, my dear.)
Closed his eyes.