Fragile - A Bucky Barnes Story

Nothing about you is stupid.

When I woke up, I couldn't tell if it was day or night. A dull ache pounded in the forefront of my brain but I pushed myself out of the bed and out of my bedroom. I was surprised to see Bucky's dark head peeking out from behind the island bar, he was searching for something under the cabinet.

I don't know why but the image of him roaming around in my kitchen without him knowing I'm watching made my heart skip a beat. He looked so sweet and moved with confidence around the kitchen, his eyes only on the items he was collecting for what I assume was for a recipe he was working out.

I could have leaned against the doorframe for as long as it took for him to notice me but I figured that would probably look weird and make him panic. I cleared my throat as I began walking towards him. He turned quickly, as if caught in the act of doing something he shouldn't.

"Hey Lucky," he called out, a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, eyes that I now noticed up close looked very tired, black bags under his lower lid gave away his lack of sleep. "Its good to see you up, I was just- I shouldn't be in your kitchen-" he began to walk past me towards the door when I placed my hand on his chest and shook my head at him.

"Please," my voice was hoarse and dry, suddenly well aware of the pain in my throat from only God knows what. "Can I have some water?"

"Yeah, yes!" he turned quickly and beelined for the refrigerator, he popped the lid of a water bottle and handed it to me gently, waiting until I took several slow sips before he opened his mouth again. "I stayed here so I could be here when you woke up, in case you were hungry."

"I am," I answered, my stomach grumbled on que and I fought the urge to giggle at it. He smiled sheepishly as I rolled my eyes and teasingly rubbed my stomach. "Thank you for staying, I hope I didn't keep you too long."

"Its okay, you woke sooner than Bruce thought you would," he turned around and began messing around the kitchen again, pulling out ingredients before turning to me with an expression on his face of shock. "Do you eat Italian? I can make something else, whatever you want."

"I love Italian," I chuckled, walking over to the barstool across from him that was pushed under the island. "I'm guessing its dinner time."

"Yes," he paused as he began mixing ingredients for a sauce in a pan, slowly adding the fresh minced garlic and herbs that I didn't know I had. "Not the same day though."

"Oh," I paused, leaning my head on my palm as I tried to calm the pounding in my temple. "So it's Tuesday?"

"Uh, its-" he put the pan off the burner and turned around to face me. His expression was blank. "Friday."

Confusion hit me first and then I understood why he had bags under his eyes. He had stayed with me for nearly five days, and knowing him, he hadn't slept a wink. "Bucky, you didn't have to stay the entire time!"

"I was worried," he answered, looking away from me. He glanced back nervously as he cleared his throat. "I hurt you and-"

"You didn't hurt me, I hurt myself because I'm an idiot that doesn't know my own limits," I told him sternly, leaning off of my palm to catch his gaze and hold him there. "This has happened before, you didn't cause this, my stupid abilities did."

"They aren't stupid," he mumbled, he busied his hands and his attention on chopping up lettuce to make a salad. "Nothing about you is stupid, Lucky."

I didn't know how to respond, though my face was reddened by his comment. "So, who straight cathed me? This isn't my first rodeo, my bladder had to be full at some point."

"Nurses from the infirmary, I won't let them take you to the med bay, I didn't want you to wake up and not know where you were so they came here," he scratched the back of his neck with one hand as his other sat down a knife. He busied himself as he put the pan back on the eye and added tomato sauce. "Bruce had you hooked up to IV's, he said if you were still out by tomorrow he would be placing a feeding tube."

"That has happened once before, it is something I would not like to repeat," I try and joke, as I watch him go to the sink to clean his hand. His prep work done, he walked around the island and took out the other bar stool, sitting on it roughly before leaning against the cool granite with his forearms.

"I don't think we should continue," he said softly, looking down at the countertop with steely blue eyes. "It's too dangerous."

"I'll just have to be careful next time," I shrug it off, as if its no big deal but to him I knew it was. Where I was used to days of unconsciousness as my mind heals itself, he wasn't. He would hold onto the guilt, thinking it was his fault it happened in the first place. "Its nothing you did, James."

"You can call me Buck," he tilted his head and his eyes connected with mine. They swam with uncertainty. "My friends call me that."

"Well, Buck, its nothing you did," I exaggerated the point with a small grin on my face. The corner of his lips rose and a small grin appeared on his face. "So we're friends now?"

"Yes," he answered hesitantly. He sat up straight and turned his body towards me. "If that's alright with you?"

"I know its very unorthodox to be friends with your clients, but I was never very good to follow rules or guidelines," I grinned slyly as I held out my hand to shake his. He let out a chuckle as he shook my hand. "So tell me, friend, what did I miss?"

"Uh," he shifted to lean back against the counter as he thought about what to say. "Steve went on a mission that day and he still isn't back, I think he took Sam and Natasha with him. Bruce and Tony have been in and out of your apartment with the nurses, they didn't have a clue about what was going on with you. I don't know of anything else."

"Did you sleep, any?" I murmured slowly, mimicking his body language as I leaned against the counter like him.

"A couple hours," he shrugged his shoulders but his face remained blank. When he saw my look of disapproval, he opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out for several seconds. "I was really worried about you. I couldn't close my eyes without seeing you how you looked in my arms, half dead almost."

My stomach did another flip and I tried my best to quell the butterflies at the thought of him losing sleep over me. It is completely inappropriate to have a crush on a client but here I go getting feelings.

"I'm okay now, why don't you go rest," I rubbed my forehead and looked over at the steaming pots and pans on the burners. "After you eat."

"After we eat," he enunciated the we part before he stood up and walked back over to the stove. He stirred the sauce and finally poured out the noodles from whatever pan I hadn't seen him prepare. I guess I dozed off, going into my own thoughts about Bucky and the need to shut down whatever feelings he brought out of me because the next thing I knew, he had put a plate in front of me with homemade spaghetti, salad and garlic bread.

"Dig in." He announced.