Certainty (A Bucky Barnes Fanfic)

━◦○◦5.5: Good Mornings at Home◦○◦━

episode 5 - Truth

Bucky woke to . . . bizarre noises. For a moment, he couldn't place them, then heard Cass's laugh. He turned his head, watching the two boys fake punch at each other. Wooshing and grunting for sound effects.

Cass held the shield.

Bucky was almost shocked, "Hey."

He waved to them, but his surprise came through too heavily.

"Put it back," AJ waved at Cass, looking around widely. "Hurry, hurry!"

Cass ran off, leaving AJ to adjust the shield, then give up. Bucky couldn't hold back a smile, staring after them. Cass's giggle rolled from the stairs.

What would it be like to wake up in a home like this each day?

Bucky looked back at the shield, and his smile faded. His stomach and heart sank as he stared at the familiar symbol, object. He had been so selfish in how he thought about that thing. So insecure. What Sam had said earlier about his insecurities affecting his relationships was truer than he wanted to admit. Bucky breathed in slowly, turning his gaze to the ceiling. He shut his eyes.

How did he make this right? Sam was the person who deserved the shield, yet Bucky had to stop forcing it on him. To stop being so passive-aggressive, but just stopping wouldn't show how he understood. Bucky had to make things right. Again. How did he just keep screwing up?

Footsteps creaked on the stairs, and Bucky's smile returned.

"What are you doing hiding?" Shamara laughed in a whisper.

"We were playin' with the shield and woke up Mr. Bucky," Cass gave another nervous giggle.

"I told you we shoulda played with it elsewhere," AJ hissed.

"Well, I didn't know if Uncle Sam wanted us to move it."

"You are fine, boys. Don't worry about it," Shamara stilled as she moved around the stairwell.

Bucky kept his eyes closed, listening to her draw closer. Her hand brushed over his face, and his smile grew. His heart skipped a beat when her lips kissed his forehead.

"Good morning," Shamara traced her fingers down his cheek.

"Mhm," Bucky shifted and set his hands on her waist, pulling her closer.

Shamara chuckled, sitting on the edge of his couch. She half-draped over him and ran her hand through his hair. Bucky kept his eyes closed, partially because he was relaxed. Partially because he knew he would be overwhelmed with the same intensity he felt the night before. It was hard enough just feeling her warmth.

"Sleep well?" She kept playing with his hair.

"Very," Bucky shifted his hands to her back. "I wasn't expecting to."

"Agreed."

"You haven't felt any symptoms recently?"

"Not to compare with how I was feeling before. I'm still hot at night, but I told Sarah, and she got me a fan and some ice. If the symptoms have any dependence on my mental state, then the recent calm is no surprise. This place is very peaceful . . . ," Shamara released a small, breathy sigh. "Do you think we'll ever get this kind of peace?"

The question made Bucky open his eyes, his heartbeat quickening. The sunrise glowed through the windows, making the world bright and Shamara's eyes brighter. Her face was peaceful yet . . . unsure and looked as ancient as he felt much of the time.

"What kind of peace, Shamara?" Bucky propped himself on an elbow.

She looked down, hesitating, "The kind built on love, not solitude."