What Fades Away

chapter 11: longshot

a/n: oral (f receiving), implied smut, feelings

If there are mistakes, oh well. I've been working on this part forever to get us to where we need to go and I'm ready.

Soft morning light fills the kitchen as Bucky pads down the hall. A shiver comes over him, the black sweatpants he picked up from the floor not doing much to fight the chill. The cold is still the worst for him, a feeling of fright creeping with every frost. Bucky knows the cold won't get him and he knows that he'll wake up the next day. But memories can't leave his muscles, reminding him of his time before when cold was a punishment.

Bucky shakes his body, cracking the joints in his neck and shoulders. He goes about the motions of making coffee. The routine calms him, predictable steps that never really change.

While the machine hisses and bubbles, Bucky grabs the coffee creamer that Mara loves. It smells sweet and spicy, like her. His heart flutters as Bucky thinks about the girl sleeping in his bed.

Sam wanders out of the elevator, in the same slightly blurry, half awake state as Bucky.

"Get any sleep there, Sarge?"

Bucky snorts, taking a sip of his black coffee as Mara's is being prepared.

"Yeah, actually. Like a fuckin' baby."

"Is she still asleep?" Sam asks with a raised eyebrow.

Sam sees the shine of Bucky's teeth as he smiles behind his mug.

"Yep."

"How are things by the way? This weird little love connection working out?"

"Weird? Why is it weird?" Bucky asks, frown lines wrinkling his handsome face.

"Where do I start? You've never been on a date with her that wasn't in this building. You practically growl at anyone who looks in her direction. And it's you."

Bucky uncrosses his arms and places his hands on his hips.

"What the hell does that mean?"

"You don't like anyone. Don't get me wrong, Mara is amazing. But are you sure this is a good idea?"

Bucky puts his coffee down, turning to face his friend. Sam is like his conscience, the voice of reason whenever things get out of hand. He doesn't coddle Bucky like Steve did. However, Bucky only appreciates the advice when it's specifically asked for.

"Yeah, I do. For the first time in a long time, I don't feel fucking insane. Being with Mara...it's like I don't have to hide who I am or what I did. She already knows and deals with it anyway."

"Have you told her you think her ex-boyfriend is a murderer?"

Bucky jolts forward, checking if anyone else is around before continuing in a whisper. His blue eyes widen with intent.

"Look, I know how it sounds, okay? There's something about this guy that doesn't feel right."

"Are you sure it's not jealousy?"

"Mara told me there was nothing going on between them. He never even slept with her. Wait, that doesn't matter. I'm telling you. He's too calm about this shit."

"Maybe he's just used to it? Like you?" Sam asks, leaning himself back on the counter.

"Sam, I'm used to assessing a threat. I just need to talk to him. Outside of the station, outside of the FBI..."

"Away from Mara, too?"

Bucky lets out a deep breath, studying the lines of the tile at his feet with intent.