We'll Meet Again...I Know When || Bucky Barnes x Reader

27 || Goodnight and Good Mourning

Bucky counts two rings of the doorbell and six knocks. Second ring in case the first wasn't heard, six heavy knocks in case the doorbell might be broken, and yet despite this extra work, he never actually had any real expectations for the door to open on its own. Unfortunately, he gave up hope on that a few weeks ago.

Setting some bags down by his feet and cursing when they immediately tip over, he uses his new free hand to fish through his pocket, succeeding in not only finding his keys, but the correct one to unlock this blasted barrier before him.

Per usual, he's greeted with an eerily dark hallway that seems fitting for the start of a horror movie. Shuffling through the door with another curse as the same pesky bags get caught on the handle, he kicks it shut behind himself then calls out into the darkness as if it would reply, "Hey...It's me!"

Unfazed by the greeting of silence, he leaves his boots and coat there before making a b-line for the kitchen, pleased to leave all his grocery bags there to officially free himself of their incontinent weight. He goes to the fridge first, not to put anything away, but rather to grimace at the barren sight inside. Some condiments, a little bit of milk, veggies that look past their expiration date, and a half rack of beer...Good thing he went shopping.

Walking around the bar and into the living room, Bucky almost makes the mistake of going further which would've taken him right past the couch and, more importantly, the motionless lump lying there. When he does spot it in the corner of his eyes, he sighs - for some reason he still has a reason to sigh despite this having become a despairing routine as of lately.

Slowly, he steps over the few empty beer bottles on the floor and squats next to the couch where his frown only grows deeper as he pokes the lump, "It's past noon...You should get up and eat something - You need to get up and eat something."

He only gets a groan in response, but at least that's better than continued silence.

"I bought groceries. I can make something if you want?" Nothing, "...Or I can even order some take-out. Anything particular in mind?"

"...I don't want anything..."

Bucky inhales, although he tries not to make it sound so sharp. Standing upright and grabbing the empty bottles, he heads back into the kitchen, "...You'll make yourself sick living off of beer alone, you know?"

"For your information, I had ramen yesterday."

"I'm proud of you," He's truly sincere, not that you'd believe that, "That means today, we can have something other than beer or ramen. Now, what do you feel like? I was thinking we could just do a simple, early dinner. I got some frozen pizza. Maybe we can have that and do a movie night or somethin' - just enjoy an easy going, lazy day. What do you say? I wouldn't mind another marathon of Lord of the Rings. You still keep the extended cuts under the TV stand, yeah?"

He's rambling and normally, you find it enduring, however today - and for the last few weeks - his voice has been a distant echo in your head; nothing but a dull mumble against the terrible thoughts that overtake your care and concern. It makes you feel shitty in every way possible. Bucky visits every day without fail, armed with unlimited patience and kindness that he somehow manages to smother you in without actually smothering you (it's been painfully obvious that he's desperately trying to give you some space while still being present).

"Oh yeah, and I also got your favorite. They had it next to check-out. 'thought you'd like some," Even when a candy bar is waved in front of your face, your eyes barely shift to it before disappearing from sight when you curl further into your blanket sanctuary.

"...No thank you."

Although his smile does wobble a bit into a frown, Bucky forces himself not to break; not here, not in front of you. He'd be an absolute hypocrite to complain, after all, it was him who spent several years moping which (unintentionally) dragged you into quite a lot of trouble. You pulled him from that hole, giving him the support he needed to move on from his past as hard as that had been. Now it's his turn to return the favor.