Revenge Turned Sweet

Chapter 51: Here and Now

I've always entertained the thought that I would die young. It was always there, in the back of my mind, nagging at me that I wouldn't make it to adulthood. What would I have to show for it anyway?

I knew for a fact that the Winter Soldier would come to get me, finish his mission, and hang my body on the mantle of his fireplace. Proud of the trophy and the fact that he finished the job. Or that the grief would overtake me and I would wind up in an early grave.

Of course, that was before I knew Bucky. The torture he endured. The years frozen and brainwashed. I haven't thought about dying young since I became an Avenger. It's been a comforting feeling.

And that was before I knew James Buchanan Barnes. The man I love. The man who believes in me with every ounce of strength that he has. Even when I give him reasons not to.

I roll over in my bed, which is feeling more and more like a grave every day, and see Bucky still sound asleep next to me. Because of my little outburst last night and my inebriated state, he thought it'd be best to stay in my room with me and sleep over the comforter.

My eyes roam him, every part of him. He's still in the same clothes as last night. He didn't even bother to change. After sitting on the roof for hours he escorted me to my room and fell asleep in my bed with me. His arms are folded across his chest and his lips are parted slightly. The sound of his shallow breathing makes my heart skip a beat.

Knowing he's sleeping peacefully is a comfort to me more than anything else in the world. His features are completely relaxed, his brows aren't furrowed, his mouth isn't pursed, he just looks so peaceful.

I'd be a fool to think I could sneak out of this bed, let alone this room without waking him up. But, I'm going to try anyway. I slide out from under the blankets and tiptoe across the floor until I reach the door. I glance over my shoulder to find that he's stirred a bit in his sleep but isn't awake.

Once I'm in the hallway, I take my time getting to the elevator, savoring all of the luxuries I've been given.

I hear the groan of the coffee maker before I even get to the kitchen. I know Sam is in there but I still don't know exactly where we stand. I push the door open and he whips his head around, startled. "Good morning," I mumble, trying to put a smile on my face.

"Morning," he grunts, a sure sign that he's hungover.

I clear my throat as I wander into the kitchen and stand next to him. "Mind if I have some of that?" I point to the coffee still brewing in the pot.

He gestures to it as he walks away with a full mug, clearly impatient with the brewing process. "Help yourself."

I furrow my brows as I wait for the last drops to fall into the dark liquid. I pour myself a mug and sit across from Sam at the island. It's awkward. "Did you have fun last night?"

He hums as he sips his coffee, his eyes closed.

I clear my throat and stifle a laugh. "I'm so glad I got to see everyone again!" I yell and watch his face go from serene to agonizing pain.

"No! No, no, no!" He repeats like a mantra, cupping his ears. "Please, do not do that again."

I chew on my lip to keep myself from laughing. He's wide awake now but I'm unsure if that's a good thing or not. I take a sip of my coffee, savoring the taste and how it warms my entire body.

"Um-" I mumble and his eyes slice to mine. "Want to see something I learned?" I play with my hands, feeling like I'm talking to Captain America and not Sam Wilson, my friend.

"Is it going to hurt me?" He asks and I take a deep breath.

"No," I mumble, shrinking in my seat. "Why would I ever want to hurt you?" He cocks a brow at me and I nod my head, accepting defeat. "Nevermind, it's stupid anyway. Just let me know when we're leaving." I grab my mug and stand from my seat.