Saving Bucky (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

Chapter 60 - Bearing The Cold

James pulls you along down darkened sidewalks, two sets of breath visible in the light of the street lamps. 

"Where are we going?" you ask as he pulls out his cellphone, typing something before pocketing his phone.

"Little place I passed by last time I bunked at Booker," James says. "But it's a ways out. We'll need to take the bike."

"The bike?" you whine. "James, it's below freezing."

"Won't take long," he grunts, glancing both ways before pulling you behind him across the street and past a row of small single story homes. "Twenty minutes tops."

"Twenty minutes?!" you hiss. "Do I need to remind you that I'm a normal human being? You might have super soldier endurance, but I don't." 

James stops, turning to look at you with a cocked head and an amused grin on his face. 

"What?" you demand.

"Nothin', doll," he smirks. "I just...forget. Sometimes. When I'm with you."

You arch one confused brow. "Forget what?"

"That I'm...like this," he says, smile fading. "You know. Not, uh...normal."

"Oh," is the only sound you can make, unsure of how to respond as the weight and warmth of that bullet against your chest suddenly feels heavy.

James' gaze flits between your own as the glow of the nearby lamplight bathes you both in gentle shadow. He brings his hand to your cheek, letting warm fingers run down cold skin. 

"You're...so good for me,"

Your adrenaline races as distant choruses of that whispered "love you" echo in your head. You start to panic, pulling back from his touch and concealing your discomfort with a well-practiced smirk.

"Good thing you didn't drop me off in South America, then," you tease, casting him a pointed glance and lacing your fingers through those of his gloved, metal hand. But you spot a look of concerned curiosity flit across James' face. He must have felt you pull away.

"Y/n-"

"We need to get a car," you interrupt, pulse still rushing in your ears. "I'm not gonna last 20 minutes on the bike, Barnes," you tease. A frown tugs at James' lip but you ignore it, glancing around the empty street at each of the cars parked along the curb. "How about that one?" you say, pointing at an old 90's Accord. 

"Not that one," James says, tugging you along down the street. "Okay...that one?" you say, pointing towards a faded gold Toyota Camry. 

"Nope," James says.

"Okay," you say. "So then...what are we gonna take?

"Nothing," he says. "We'll go get something from the impound lot."

"The impound?" you ask.

"Doesn't put anyone out who isn't already out," he says with a shrug. 

You're left speechless once more, astounded by the inherent selflessness in everything James does. You're also left feeling slightly guilty. You had been ready to simply take the nearest, most convenient option without regard to who may be suffering the loss. But James? He had immediately thought of a way to be good. To find a way to get what he needed without hurting anyone.

"You okay?" James says, glancing down at you. You had gone quiet without realizing it. So you meet his eye and give him a small smile.

"Fine," you say, gently squeezing his gloved hand, the metal fingers beneath returning your affections with their own squeeze.