The Collection- Bucky Barnes

Off the Clock- ii

Y/N sleeps like a rock. One of those boulders out on a plain that hasn't moved in three or more decades. So, when she wakes up Sunday morning, her body is stiff all over. Mouth, throat, and eyes dry as the desert.

Dear Jesus, she internally groans. She feels like she's been run over by a semi-truck. Exactly as the word suggests, Y/N peels herself from the bed. It's in quite a literal sense that she shuffles to the bathroom that she shares with Faith. Thank all heavens that it's not in use.

She takes some Tylenol and washes it down with a cupped hand of water from the sink. Brushes over her teeth and tongue for about six minutes because her mouth tastes way too pukey for her liking. Takes a good half hour to shower away whatever the hell happened last night. All with a raging hangover headache. Surprisingly, she doesn't feel any sort of nauseas, which means she definitely threw up last night.

She just doesn't remember anything.

Nothing. It's all a huge blank spot. She remembers getting to the club and starting to drink. After that, nada.

By the time she's dressed, she's got two texts and a missed call. A text from Dane and another and a missed call from...Mr. Barnes?

He never calls on Sundays. Those are his literal days-off. He's always been strict about spending the whole day with his son. So why the hell is he calling her?

87 scenarios go through her head and all she can think is: what if something happened to Will?

The text is easy, simple. Call me.

So, she does exactly that. It barely gets through the first ring before he answers; her heart is pretty much beating out of her chest. She feels sick to her stomach and she knows it isn't her hangover.

"Y/N."

"Mr. Barnes, sorry I missed your call. Is everything okay? Is Will okay?" She's already putting on shoes in case she has to rush to their house. Or the hospital.

"Yeah, why wouldn't he be?"

She stops as she's about to pick up her set of keys. It's a bare set. It's only got four keys on it. Her car key. One key for the townhouse, one for her house back in Brooklyn (not that she ever plans on going back), and her key to the Barnes house.

"Uh," she isn't sure what to say that won't sound rude or stupid, "you don't ever call me on Sundays." Is what she settles with. "I just thought something may have happened..."

She would die if anything ever happened to Will. Really and truly, she would keel over.

Mr. Barnes laughs quietly at her hasty conclusion. The sound takes her aback; she's not really used to hearing it. It jogs some part of her memory and she swears his laugh echoes in the back of her head. Why, though, she can't understand. "Everything's fine. We're both fine. But would it be too much trouble for you to come watch the kid for a couple hours? I left some stuff at the Compound on Friday and need to go get it."

He's never taken Will to the facility upstate that serves as Avengers HQ. She isn't sure why but she thinks it has something to do with separating church and state.

"Oh! Yeah, of course. I'll be there in a few." She clutches her keys in her hand.

"Great." He sounds as if he's smiling. Why she thinks that, she doesn't know. "See you soon. Hey," he pauses and she stops in the doorway of her room, "be careful, will ya?"

She doesn't give it a second thought. He always tells her to be safe or be careful. It's normal. "Sure thing."

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