Lost and Found - Bucky Barnes x OC

I'm Sorry

Bucky reached his apartment, still sweating and still trying to regulate his breathing. He checked his phone, it was 4am and he had two missed calls from Frankie plus a text message:

Worried about you. Please let me know you're alright. Know you might need space but just say the word and I'll come find you F.x

He sighed, feeling guilty about leaving her like that. She must be so confused. He sent her back a holding message.

I'm OK don't worry – will explain in the morning. Go back to sleep x

That would at least buy him a bit more time.

He was still reeling from his nightmare. He knew it was just a dream but it had all seemed so real, so vivid. Frankie's terrified face flashed through his mind. He felt nausea rising from his stomach as he replayed it over and over.

The worst part was he had seen a version of that look on Frankie's face the day in the garage when she found out who he was. Not quite as extreme of course, but the same pleading and panic in her eyes. It was a dream, but clearly not a million miles from reality.

He sat on the floor, switching the TV on to try and distract himself.

Obviously he would never hurt her. But what if he did? What if there was still a programmed part of him nestled away which the Wakandans missed and could rise to the surface again somehow?

What if old enemies crept out of the woodwork? He had managed to upset quite a few people in his time for multiple reasons. HYDRA cells could still be out there, clinging on like cockroaches and slowly multiplying. There was no way of knowing if they'd leave him alone forever. What if they found out about Frankie and used her to get to him?

Or maybe they wouldn't even need to be HYDRA. He had caused a lot of harm and misery over the years. Someone might avenge their loved one, tracking down the Winter Soldier to enact their revenge – maybe wanting to harm someone he cared for in return. Eye for an eye.

Or what if he hurt her as himself by mistake? What if his instincts took over and she became collateral damage? Tonight when he'd woken up he'd launched her across the bed. She was fine, but what if she wasn't next time? What if she caught him off guard one day and he thought she was foe rather than friend? He was very much in control of himself, he knew his limitations and the extent of his strength – but all it took was one wrong move or misstep.

He cringed thinking about their games in the forest and the roof jumps. What if they'd gone a different way?

Maybe she wasn't safe with him.

But he loved her.

He hadn't told her yet. But he did. He loved her deeply and he thought maybe she loved him too. She made a future seem possible. He had fun with her. He slept better with her. She was a calming presence in his life, the anchor in a choppy sea of chaos.

And miraculously she cared for him too, sometimes he would catch her staring at him with a hint of a smile. She was a tough cookie – often brash, opiniated, frustrating. But she was also soft under her hard exterior – generous, thoughtful, loyal. She understood him, she didn't judge him.

He was actually happy. He felt more at peace than he had in a long time. Surely he couldn't let that go?

Or did he need to let her go to keep her safe?

The dream hadn't come out of nowhere. He'd always had these feelings in the back of his mind but repressed them as much as he could. But now things were getting more serious, their feelings growing more intensely for one another.