Chapter 20
“And that’s all of it...the whole story. You know the rest. Clint and Everett are still out there somewhere looking for Scott. I still don’t know what I’m going to do when they get back. Oh Steve, what should I do? Steve?”
Getting no response, you leaned forward from your spot resting against him and turned around to find that, at some point during your story, he had quietly drifted off to sleep.
“As long as it takes, huh, Cap?” You said, shaking your head. Reaching up and pushing his hair back out of his face, you added, “In your defense, it has been a long few days.”
“He was about the worst person you could have picked for advice anyway,” a deep voice said from a dark corner of the room. You watched as Bucky strolled into the light without making a single sound. “He’s never even had a real girlfriend.”
“How long have you been eavesdropping?” You asked.
“Since about...2003 maybe...of course, my math could be wrong. You didn’t really give me any dates to work with.”
He crossed the room and proceeded to step over Steve’s outstretched legs so he could join you on the couch.
“Takes up a lot of room, doesn’t he?” he said.
“Who should’ve I discussed this with then? You?”
“Yeah, I wouldn’t have been a bad candidate. Do you mind?” he asked, indicating your last, long-forgotten glass of wine.
You waved your hand and watched as he picked it up and downed the contents in one gulp.
“How can you stand that stuff? It’s too sweet.”
“Wine is something that’s supposed to get better stored in a cool place for a long time. I thought you of all people could appreciate that,” you replied with a good-natured smirk.
He laughed and it made you feel all warm inside. You wondered how long it had been since anything made him laugh.
“So, about your problem,” he began, “as I see it, there are multiple options available to you, you just need to decide which one you want because once you do, you can’t double-back on it. Agreed?”
“Agreed.”
“Option A: Your friend Barton comes back and tells you that he and his wife are getting a divorce because he’s finally realized he’s a total idiot and you’re the one true love of his life. You throw yourself in his arms and the two of you live happily ever after.”
“Assuming that’s even what he says when he does get back,” you said.
“Doll, I know I’ve been on ice the better part of the last seventy-plus years, but some things never change. I’ve seen how he looks at you.”
Although it felt wrong, it made you immensely happy to think that Bucky might be right. That Clint might actually feel the same way about you that you had felt about him for so many years.
“Option B,” he began, pulling you out of your daydream. “You pick that prick Ross—“
“Bucky,” you gently warned.
“Hey, the guy wanted to keep me strapped down in a plexiglass box for the rest of my natural life. I got a right to call him a prick.”
“Fair enough.”
“Where was I? Oh right, you pick him because you obviously care about him for some reason, in which case you have to decide how to handle your relationship with Barton from here on out. Because let’s face it, he wouldn’t really want you hanging out with the guy who he knows you’ve always had romantic feelings for. The same situation might apply to Option A, but I don’t know how jealous Barton is or how much he even knows about you and Ross.”
Rubbing your hands against your face in frustration, you sighed and said, “This isn’t helping.”
“Well, there’s always Option C.”
“What’s Option C?”
“You and I leave all this behind and run off to a gorgeous tropical beach where our only worry would be making sure we get all the sand out of my crevices,” he said, tapping his new metal arm with his other hand.
This time it was your turn to laugh. He gave you a big smile, shrugged his shoulders and said, “It was worth a shot.”
When you finished laughing, you suddenly grew very serious and said, “There’s also Option D to worry about.”
“Which is?”
“That none of us make it out of this alive.”
His smile faded as he stared at you. Then he reached over and took one of your hands in his.
“Don’t think about that,” he said. “It doesn’t do anybody any good. Besides, I don’t think I’ve been kept alive this long just to get obliterated by some space freak. Someway, somehow, we’re going to win this.”
“That doesn’t mean that all of us will.”
“No, it doesn’t. Look, I don’t believe in making promises I can’t keep, but if you stick close to me during this fight, then I guarantee you that nothing will get to you unless it goes through me.”
“Why do you care so much about what happens to me, Buck?”
“Because you gave a damn when you didn’t have to, and you treated me like a regular guy instead of a....well, let’s just say it didn’t go unnoticed.”
Not knowing what to say, you squeezed his hands in yours and gave him a grateful smile.
“Besides,” he began again, “you could use a little extra help on the battlefield.”
“What is that supposed to mean? Are you implying I can’t take care of myself?”
“Sweetie, you’re an amazing fighter, considering...”
“Considering what?”
“You haven’t been pumped full of supersoldier serum.”
“That’s...that’s irrelevant.”
“Or drank the juice of a weird, glowing flower.”
“Also, a moot point.”
“Don’t practice magic.”
“Well, I haven’t had the opportunity to.”
“Or turn into an indestructible green being the size of a house.”
“Okay, I’ve got it! You’ve made your point.”
Giving him a sideways glance, you could tell from the look on his face that he’d been baiting you in an attempt to lighten the mood. You started giggling loudly, which finally caused some movement at the far end of the couch.
“Well, Well, It looks like Sleeping Beauty is waking up without her kiss,” you said.
“More like Rip van Winkle with that beard,” Bucky said. “Good morning, Steve.”
“Did you have a nice nap, Captain?” You asked.
You saw his eyes grow as big as saucers as the realization hit him.
“Y/n, I am so sorry!”
“For snoozing during my life story!”
“How insensitive of you, Steve,” Bucky interjected. “You’re a terrible friend. Good thing she had someone who actually cares around to listen.”
“I’m going to regret you two getting so chummy, aren’t I?” Steve asked.
Before either of you could respond, the sound of someone’s hurried footfalls coming down the hall made you all turn your attention to the doorway.
“A ship has landed,” Natasha said as she entered the room.
“One of ours?” Steve asked.
“No.”