Nightmares and Aquariums
It’s almost 2 a.m. in the middle of the night when Y/n is woken by her phone buzzing silently. It doesn’t take much for her to stir awake, seeing as she wasn’t having the most peaceful sleep, to begin with.
She turns to her side, atop the air mattress she’s lying on, in the middle of Sarah’s living room. Grabbing her phone, she gets up and begins walking out to the backyard. Bucky is sleeping next to her on the couch and she understands how precious sleep is to people like them, and therefore doesn’t intend on disturbing him out of it.
Opening the door to the backyard, she picks up the call, “Hello?” She steps out onto the porch, pulling on the sleeves of the sweatshirt she’s borrowed from Sarah. “Is everything okay?” She asks, concerned.
“Yeah, yeah. Everything’s fine. We’re fine,” comes the reply, and Y/n can finally breathe again. “Sorry for waking you, but she had a nightmare,” Pepper adds.
“Sleeping’s for losers without PTSD anyway,” Y/n throws back. She can hear Pepper let out a snort in response. “Can you give her the phone?”
“Sure. Hold on.”
There’s some shuffling around and then, “Hey Annie,” comes a small, almost sleepy voice of the world’s cutest niece.
“Hey pumpkin,” Y/n coos, softly. “You alright?”
“Yes. Just had a bad dream,” Morgan replies.
“You wanna tell me about it?” Y/n asks, taking a few steps and sitting down on the steps down the porch.
“You didn’t come home.”
And fuck, if that doesn’t break Y/n’s fragile alien heart. She wishes she could use her powers right about now, teleport over to her side. It would have probably taken her about an hour and stripped her of all her energy but it would have been worth it. There isn’t much she wouldn’t do for the kid.
“Well that should be proof enough that it was just a stupid little dream and nothing more,” Y/n says, her voice light and easy. Which is a stark contrast to how her insides feel. Because she is constantly afraid of it, just as much as Morgan. She is afraid that she won’t make it home to her like Tony couldn’t. Just the thought of it chokes her up but she can’t let that fall on the shoulders of her cute little pumpkin. “I’ll always come home, pumpkin,“ she promises.
“But you’re fighting bad people… like dad did.”
That throws Y/n for a spin, she hasn’t told Morgan about the mission and she’s sure Pepper hasn’t either. But now’s not the time for that. She counters. “I know, but this is different. These people aren’t as strong.”
“Promise?” She asks.
“Promise, kiddo,” Y/n assures.
“Does that mean I can come help?” The sudden shift in tone from worry to excitement throws her off for a second.
“Absolutely not!” Y/n chides, “And hush,” she shushes, “Your mom hears that and I won’t get to see the sun rise.”
“But then who will watch your back?” Morgan argues, whining.
Y/n has to laugh at that, “I’ve got—Uh—my friends,” she concedes.
Morgan grumbles in response, “But I was supposed to ‘watch your six’,” she recites as taught by Y/n. And the smile won’t leave her damn face. “It’s not fair! You promised!”
“Alright, alright. Here’s what; they’ll watch my back till you’re all grown up and battle-ready, how about that?” Y/n suggests. “Not a replacement, more like… place holders.”
She can practically hear Morgan thinking her offer over.
Once she’s presumably assessed all the pros and cons of the proposition she replies, “Okay,” she acquiesces. “But only for a bit.”
“Only for a bit,” Y/n confirms.
She can hear Morgan let out a yawn on the other side, so she asks, “You think you could give sleeping the old college try for me?”
Morgan grumbles, “Not sleepy.” And after a pause, she adds, “Miss you.”
Y/n sighs audibly, her head falling “I miss you too, pumpkin.”
They haven’t known each other long, what with her being born while Y/n was legally dead. But in the last few months, the kid’s managed to crawl into Y/n’s alien heart and burrowed a giant Morgan-shaped hole in it, all for herself. And for the life of her, Y/n can’t complain about it.
“I’ll make you a deal,” Y/n suggests, “You go to sleep now, and I promise I’ll take you to the aquarium tomorrow.”
Morgan lets out a sleepy cheer, and Y/n knows she’s been won over. But another part of Y/n knows that the kid had been aiming for the said outcome all along and she’s just managed to play into her hands. In all honesty, though, Y/n doesn’t mind.
“Alright, alright. Quit fussing and go to sleep or I swear I’ll go without you,” Y/n chides without any heat.
“Night, Annie… love you.”
“Love you too, pumpkin,” Y/n breathes. “Night.” She runs a hand through her hair. She can hear Pepper tuck her in, turn off the lamp and walk out the door.
“Thanks for that,” Pepper says.
“Fuck off,” Y/n throws back, incredulous.
Pepper chuckles softly, “Fine, fine… You had that coming anyway. You’ve been taking too many sick days.”
Y/n groans, “I know. I’m sorry. It’s just—”
“—duty calling. I understand. Relax”
She sighs, “She knows about that by the way.”
“I know. Saw the news and figured it out.”
“Can’t even leave her alone with a T.V. now. Does she really have to grow up?”
She can hear Pepper smile in response. After a second Pepper says, “You don’t have to come back tomorrow if you can’t. She’ll understa—”
“I can and I will… I’ll be there.” Her voice is filled with determination.
Pepper on the other line is silent for a second and then says, “You’ll be here, Y/n.”
Y/n feels a tear suddenly fall down her cheek, but she doesn’t have time to deal with that because she can sense someone opening the door behind her.
“Thanks Pep.” She wipes away the stray tear.
“Fuck off,” Pepper mimics her words back at her.
Y/n chuckles as the door behind her opens, “Okay, okay. Night. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Night Y/n, take care.”
And with that she hangs up and pockets her phone, looking back as Bucky leans on the doorframe. Lit only by the moonlight and nothing else, the man still manages to look like the damn sun. Especially with that soft smile gracing his face.
He takes a few steps and sits down on the steps next to Y/n, angled towards her, with his back to the railing. He pulls up one leg, folding it and rests the other one on top. She turns her head to look back at him, as he continues looking at her.
They sit in amiable silence until he breaks it a few moments later, “So… Brekker?” He asks, nodding at the phone in her hands.
She lets out a laugh. “No! No… It was Pepper,” she looks away from him, “Morgan had a nightmare.”
“Is she—Is she okay now?” Bucky asks, hesitantly.
She understands the reason behind it. They’re talking about Tony’s daughter. He isn’t sure how to navigate that territory.
“Yeah… just worried about me, I guess,” Y/n explains.
“You told her about this—”
“Oh no, no no,” she says, her hands flying up in opposition, “I want her as far away from this stuff as possible.”
“Then how?” Bucky asks, confused.
“I usually hang out with her whenever Pepper’s at work. I haven’t done that since this whole thing started and then she saw something on the news, I think. Must have put two and two together.”
“Smart kid,” Bucky remarks with a smile.
“You have no idea,” Y/n throws back with a smile of her own.
There’s a question swimming in Bucky’s head. It’s on the tip of his tongue, she can see it. But he seems hesitant about asking it. So she gives him the time to make his decision.
"Is that part of the reason why you don’t want to do this anymore?” He asks, still hesitant. “Morgan, I mean?”
Motherfucker.
No one should be able to read her as well as he is right now. She’s a trained spy for Christ’s sake!
“I don’t want her to worry,” she replies almost helplessly.
“What does she think about it?” Bucky asks, his tone somewhat knowing.
Y/n smiles, “She thinks I’m too infallible for it to be an issue.”
“Like I said; smart kid,” Bucky remarks, his lips curving up in the corner.
Their eyes meet and something in the air changes. Maybe it’s the moonlight or the silence or the solitude with a field stretching ahead of them. Or maybe it’s just them and the way they look at each other. But something’s happening, cause all Y/n can focus on are Bucky’s lips, which he wets with his tongue, torturously slowly. She copies the action, feeling as though they’re on the brink of something… something that’s so close—
Bucky clears his throat, breaking the trance, “Glad it wasn’t Brekker… I thought he was just a huge fan of watching fish.”
Y/n is fucking disappointed but she can’t help but laugh, realizing that in an attempt to cut the tension in the air he’s revealed that he was listening in on her. He soon realizes it himself as well and suddenly the laugh drops off.
“You know, just cause you can eavesdrop, doesn’t mean you should,” she reprimands him jovially. “I mean, I could have stabbed Zemo in the eye, doesn’t mean I should have.”
“Wouldn’t hear me complain if you did,” Bucky throws back, recomposing himself.
“Nah,” Y/n breathes out, “I don’t hate him enough for it.”
“Really?” Bucky balks at her. When she shrugs in response, he asks, “How can you not? Af—After… Siberia…” he drifts off.
“I didn’t say I was fond of him… I’m just saying I get it. If I had lost my family like that.. If I were him, I would have done the same thing.” She pauses, “You do crazy shit for the people you love.”
“But you didn’t,” Bucky interrupts. She looks back at him in confusion, until he adds, “With Howard… I mean, he took you in after I—after Hydra did what it did to you. He gave you a home. And I—”
“Wasn’t you,” Y/n interrupts him.
“—I killed him.” Bucky barrels on, ignoring her. “And you forgave me. You didn’t seek vengeance, you just—”
“—beat the shit out of every Hydra operative I could find, and took down as many bases as possible.” Y/n finishes. “Hydra took a lot from me. Used me for their stupid fascist missions and sometimes, I can’t lie, it does feel like it was almost too much… But I took my revenge, James.” She moves in closer and puts her hand into his, lacing them together before she adds, “I took it tenfold. It was just never meant to be on you because you were a victim too.”
She can see his eyes water and hates the sight. So she clenches his hand tightly, using the other to brush away the tear that he cannot stop from falling. His eyes fall shut and he leans into the touch, and her insides crumble into mush. Suddenly she asks, “Tell me about how you met Steve.”
“What?” Bucky asks, confused with his brows furrowed at the change of topic. “Where did that come from?”
“I’m missing the smile, sunshine,” she answers simply. She runs her thumb over his brows gently, “Frowns don’t suit you as much… So come on? I wanna know how America’s most reckless duo came to be.”
Bucky let out a watery chuckle, “I thought you hate him.”
“Why would I hate him? Cause he left me for another woman?” She asks sarcastically. Bucky laughs again, she joins in. “Nah, I don’t hate him,” she admits. “Besides, this is about you, not him.”
The look that Bucky gives her is one she cannot read. It seems similar to realization but there’s something in there she hasn’t seen before.
“Alright,” Bucky surrenders. “We were—twelve? Thirteen? Somewhere in between. I’m walking down the street, heading home. I turn a corner and there he is, a scrawny little blond boy fighting off four kids twice his size. They were stealing his money, and yeah, we were all pretty damn poor. We lived in Brooklyn in the ‘30s, for fuck’s sake; money meant a lot. But it was a few cents, you know? Nothing worthy of getting beaten up over.” Bucky laughs reminiscing. “But the punk never walked away from a fight even if his life depended on it… So he’s obviously getting beaten to a pulp but won’t fucking relent. So I step in and throw the kids on their ass.”
“James Bucky Barnes has been kicking ass a long time, huh?” she teases. Bucky smiles.
“I was just bigger in size, that’s all… Anyway, I drag him back to my home cause he looks like he’s about to fall over and break if a strong breeze blows his way.” They both chuckle in unison. “So I get him home, sit him down and my sister patches him up—”
“Rebecca?” she asks, cutting him off. She remembers the way Bucky lit up when he talked about her during their last clandestine midnight convo on the plane.
Bucky nods with a smile, “Yeah, Bec. She loved Steve like a brother. Sometimes I think she loved him more than me.” He laughs again. “So did my maa. I mean I get why. He seemed like a goody-shoes while I was busy playing the ladies' man.”
“Ladies' man, huh?” That’s very new and very interesting information. And her question seems to hit the target just right because he’s blushing again.
He sheepishly scratches the back of his neck, “Well—I mean… I guess I was pretty damn charming when I needed to be,” he pauses before his smile falls. He adds, “But that was a long time ago.”
“I don’t know about that. You’re making me swoon as we speak, sunshine,” she notes looking at him. Her words, while meant to console him are painfully true. “I think you’re doing just fine.”
Bucky blushes again.
“Tell me more about your sisters. You were the eldest of four, right?” She urges him, and he tells her. Then he tells her about the Howling Commandos. And she knows them well enough to reply to a story about Dum Dum Dugan charging into an enemy camp and screaming swears in German, with a, “That sounds like something Dugan would do.”
“You knew him?” Bucky asks, shocked.
She nods, “I worked with Peggy till she was active on the field. So I met most of the Howling Commandos,” she informs him. “Oh!” she shouts out as she remembers.
Bucky jumps up at the sudden outburst, “What?”
“Jim Morita’s grandson is the Principal at Midtown School of Science and Tech down in Queens,” she tells him.
“How do you know that?” Bucky asks curiously.
“I’ve met him once or twice,” she answers but is met with more curiosity from the man in front of her. “Peter goes there,” she explains.
“Peter?” Bucky asks, almost to himself as if running the name through his head, “Oh! The freakishly strong Spider-Kid?” He exclaims.
Y/n laughs, nodding. “Spider-Man,” she corrects him. “He’s a big fan of yours by the way. I mean, don’t get me wrong; he’s terrified of you but he thinks your arm is really cool.”
“Huh,” is all Bucky responds with. “Wait, when I called yesterday. It was him?”
Y/n nods. “We went to check out an exhibit at The Met.”
“Is that what you do when you’re not fighting bad guys? Chauffeur kids around?” He asks, chuckling.
“Mostly,” she replies.
And the rest of the night is spent talking about random things that have no business being talked about in the middle of the night. They keep at it till the sun comes up. And if they don’t let go of each other’s hands the entire night, no one has to know.