Unlikely (sam + bucky)

ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝟠: Lingering nightmares

Sam POV:
Morning came around bright and early, I watched the sun rise with a cup of coffee in my hands, my finger tips enjoying the pleasant sting of pain. I got up from the hammock on the poach and headed inside, I opened the door and Bucky was asleep on the couch, heavily breathing as if he's scared. Does he always sleep like this?

I placed my cup on the sink and checked the time, 6:30 am, I'll probably wait until about 10 am before worry about the boat. "stop... stop, stop please." Bucky whispered in his sleep and I sat on the chair next to him, hoping he's okay.

"Please..." Bucky whispered again and I shot up out of the chair and over to him. I shook his shoulder, "Bucky, wake up." I said close to his ear hoping he'll wake up. His eyes opened and he looked around the room, confused and his eyes wandered over to me.

He exhaled and sat up, the calm expression on his face turning into a blank one. "do you have coffee?" He asked and I nodded, tilting my head toward the kitchen. Bucky stood up, stretching and walked into the kitchen.

I sat down on the couch, I tried to hide my smile thinking about Bucky being here... in my house, with my family. Over the last couple days, AJ seems to take a liking to him but to be honest who wouldn't?

Bucky came back around the corner with coffee cup in his hands, his hair was messy from just waking up, his black tee shirt, much to my disliking was too big on him. "Your in sitting my spot." He said walking over to the couch where I was sitting. "I don't see your name on it." I retort and he rolls his eyes.

"Fine." He sits down next to me, stretching out his legs and putting his feet in my lap. "Really?" I say, trying to hide the fact I was actually enjoying the contact. he nods his head and I even try to hide the smile that crosses my face.

"Well, I guess this better then your head in my lap." I say, coming up with the most random thing in context. Bucky places the coffee cup on the table and tries to hold back a cough, "What?" he says blushing hard and voice going octave.

I laughed more as he grew embarrassed, "don't laugh at me." he said after letting me laugh for a while. I check the time, 8:30 am, damn he hasn't tried to kill for a entire hour, we're making progress. "how'd you sleep?" I ask after while, curious if he'd talk about the thing before he woke up.

He gives me a weird look and slightly nods his head, signifying for more context. "Like I figure your old man bones hurt from, this hard ass couch." I raise a brow and try not to laugh. He rolls his eyes at the old man part, "I slept fine."

"So what'd you dream about?" I ask, coaxing but also forcing the information out of him. "I uhh..." His voice wavered and his eyes went wide, revealing the luminous pale blue of them. "Why?" he asked clearing this throat, voice going shy every other letter.

"Just curious." I respond and shrug. "Okay?" He says and it sounds like a question, as he sits up and inches to the other side of the couch. I wish he didn't move but our... work agreement is quickly coming to end and seems pretty fragile since I fucked it up.

Sarah and the boys come down, before Bucky could say any more but the time they where down the the stairs, Bucky had quickly inched to the other side of the couch. Sarah had walked into the kitchen, so I moved over placed my head on his shoulder. "You never answered my question, Buck."

He hesitated, slowly answered as if he strategically everything he was saying. "the umm... Hydra, the winter solider, life." He said nothing but everything in the short response he gave, and I so desperately wanted to hold him, hug him, hell, maybe even kiss him -he might not like that - but he probably doesn't want me near him.

"Your not the winter solider and your not gonna hurt anyone." I say, attempting to comfort him but my usual way with words or persuasion is no where to be found. his face seemed to twist into a slight anger, but he turned his before I could read him.

He briefly sticks his tongue out, wetting his lips and I think I heard a slight chuckle. Sarah came down the stairs and he inhaled, standing up and walking into the kitchen. He came back empty handed and plopped down on the couch, sighing.

Bucky POV:

"Morning." Sarah said in southern accent accent as she approached Sam and I. I tried to steady myself, remind me that the devil hadn't come to punish me for being with Sam, or for being to close to an angel.

"What do you want?" Sam asked, less calm and more of how I think siblings would act with each other. I wouldn't really be one to listen too, as my sister has been long gone and even if she was on her death bed, she wouldn't accept me and my baggage anyway.

Sargent James Buchanan Barnes, died falling off a train into a snowy and rocky canon, only a wounded ex-assassin shares his name. I tried to shake off the thoughts, my skin crawling under my tee-shirt, walls moving inward just to push them selves back out, again. Thoughts threw themselves at me like the violence of my life, never giving me more then a second to catch my breath.

"Buck." Sam's voice seemed to call and I was broken from my thoughts, feeling as if they shattered in front of me, revealing a reality behind the shards. I turned to him, his brown eyes lightening with the span of attention I give him, out on sliver platter for him to take. I'm not complaining though, as I enjoy it just as much as he seems too but people lie. Not just with words, with actions and emotions.

So the question that remains is: does he? Sam wouldn't do that, right? Instead of dwelling on it, I filed the thought into the back of my mind, letting something more bloody or violet to take it's place. I hadn't registered how it happened but Sam and I were on the boat, working on floorboards.

"You look lost in thought." Sam claimed as his shoulder brushed mine. "Well maybe it's a thought worth getting lost in." I retort and Sam raises a brow, "Your face says differently." I give a stiff nod as I finished the last board, then shakily standing up as I felt the phantom violence of my thought.

"I'm thinking about going back to D.C." I finally say after a tension filled silence, avoiding eye contact with Sam as I surveyed the dusk lit waters.