One Night In Brooklyn | Bucky Barnes 1940's

Saturday - 03.16 AM

Eloise woke up when her hand hit the empty and cold part of her bed where Bucky's heavy and warm body had been only moments before.
She picked her head up off the pillow quickly, opening her eyes and struggling to adjust to the darkness of the room. He wasn't there. A slight panic rose within her, and she had to remind herself that Bucky had actually been there, that it hadn't just been a dream. She wrapped herself in her robe and stepped out into the hallway, gently knocking on the bathroom door.
"Bucky?" Her soft voice was still clouded with sleep, and she closed her arms over herself to prevent the cold from seeping too far past the fabric that covered her. The balcony door must still be open.
To her surprise, the bathroom was empty. And she could feel the panic rise within her again. There was a stirring of an electricity-like feeling in her legs as they carried her down the hallway. She was just about to call out for him again when she turned the corner and found him sitting at the kitchen table. His head hung low, his breathing looked shallow.
"Bucky?" She whispered, walking towards him slowly.
"I'm sorry, I just– I was– Uh–" His voice sounded somewhat strained. He ran a hand over his face before meeting her gaze, but he made no attempt at reaching out to her.
"What's wrong?" She asked carefully.
Bucky was quiet this time, his eyes looked focused on something, as if he was staring at something far far away, they had a slight glaze to them. His mouth opened as if he was trying to speak. But no words came out.
Eloise knew.
If she was honest with herself, she had known since last night.
She knew, because she had been plagued with the same feeling once. And it would still claw its way out of her sometimes, although she had grown much more skilled at shoving it back down in recent years.
Eloise moved closer before she sat back on her knees, carefully placing one of her hands in his as she looked up at him, trying to catch his gaze.
"Bucky...do you want to come back to bed?" She whispered.
He shook his head, trying to focus on his breathing. Trying to hold onto the sound of her voice. But everything felt heavy, and wrong. And his shoulder hurt. And his heart was pounding. And he was scared. Always scared. Even though there was nothing to be scared of.
"Bucky.." Eloise spoke again, this time with a bit more concern in her voice. "Please, say something" She rested her chin against his knee, her eyes finally caught his. The piercing blue was clearly visible even in the darkness. And he shook his head gently.
"I–" He tried, swallowing hard before continuing. "I had–" He tried again, stumbling over his words and forcing himself to take a deep breath.
"You had a bad dream?" She asked, her voice still a calm whisper.
Bucky nodded, his eyes glistening now.
Eloise reached up, putting her hand against his forehead and brushing back his damp hair.
"You're burning up" She whispered.
"I'm alr–" Bucky shook his head.
"We need to get you cooled down" Eloise reached for the bottom of his shirt and noticed immediately that it was soaking wet when her fingers grazed the hem. But as soon as she started to slightly pull it up, Bucky's hand grabbed hold of her wrist.
Their eyes met in the dark, and she could see the tears in his eyes gathering like marbles on his lower lash line. He shook his head, his mouth held in a tight line.
"No" he managed, and the grip on her wrist grew a bit tighter.
"Bucky, you have to–" Eloise tried.
"I said, no" He cut her off, his eyes wide with sorrow. Eloise could feel his fingers tremble against her wrist.
She gently wrapped her fingers around his grip and pulled it open. He didn't fight her. She held his hand in both of hers, carefully rubbing her thumbs into his palm.
"Does this hurt?" She asked carefully.
Bucky shook his head.
"I– I can't feel it– here" He wiggled the last three fingers of his left hand.
Eloise pressed gently from the middle of his palm and out towards the fingers, feeling as they continued to tremble in her grip.
She kept touching him, moving her hands up his arm, gently pressing against his muscles and carefully working her way up.
"Bucky..." She whispered.
"Yes" He sighed.
"Ask me something" she smiled up at him, her hands still moving up and down.
He was quiet for a moment. It seemed as if her request had caught him off guard, because she could feel the tendons in his arms soften.
His eyebrows pinched as his gaze focused on her, the cold blue eyes searched her face. Her sharp brows and her soft lips, and how her dark eyelashes fanned out against her cheeks, and how her soft touch lingered on him.
"I'm sorry" He mumbled.
"That's not a question," She smiled. "Go ahead, try again" her hands moved further up.
"Where did you grow up?" Bucky finally managed, his eyes looking slightly brighter.
"Connecticut" She huffed. Bucky looked surprised.
"Really?" He tilted his head slightly.
"Really" Eloise nodded, a grin on her face. "Near a pond. With geese. And an herb garden in the back." She looked up at him, laughing.
Bucky managed a smile, and it made her feel a bit less tense. She was working up to it, but the fact that he had smiled just then, made her feel as if she might have a chance.
"It's where my parents are buried," She spoke softly. "And...it's where I learned how to ride a bike." She continued on mindlessly.
"You never told me you grew up in Connecticut. I asked you." Bucky chuckled.
"I know" She laughed, remembering how he had tried to pry the information out of her skillfully. Her hands moved further up.
"Can I ask you anything?" He carefully put his words together, taking a deep breath before and after the question.
"Anything," She smiled.
"Do you miss it?" He spoke clearer now.
"Sometimes" She shrugged. "But I like Brooklyn. I like my apartment. I like that it's all...mine." She smiled. If he had noticed that her hand was moving further up and slightly beneath the sleeve of his shirt, he hadn't made her aware.
"Would you like to go visit someday? I'll take you" He smiled.
"That is...if you can convince me" She raised a teasing eyebrow at him.
"Think I've done pretty well this far" He chuckled, flinching slightly at her hand moving up towards his shoulder. But he didn't reach for it. He didn't try to get out of the chair. It was the first time he had let her touch him without immediately putting distance between them or jumping in surprise.
"You only got this far because I let you. And because I trust you." She argued back jokingly. "And because your eyes are so blue" she sighed playfully.
"Do you trust me?" She smiled softly, letting her hand lay still against the curve of his shoulder.
Silence fell between them, thick and heavy and almost like charged static.
He nodded, holding his breath.
"We should take it off" She whispered.
Bucky looked like he wanted to run straight out of the room, his right hand was curled into a fist so tight that his knuckles were turning white.
"It's okay...you can take it off" Eloise rose onto her knees, both her hands carefully moving down his chest and towards the hem of his shirt.
Bucky jumped a bit when her hands moved beneath it. She rested them gently against his abdomen, feeling the toned ripple of muscle beneath. She had missed the feeling of him so much, his warmth and how his body enveloped hers so perfectly, and how each and every muscle moved beneath his skin. And the way it smelled after having been pressed against her all night.
"We're going to take it off...okay?" She spoke calmly, looking him in the eyes as she began lifting the shirt.
Bucky nodded, taking a deep breath as his eyes began to water again.
Eloise lifted it to his chest, and then Bucky slowly began lifting his arms slightly over his head. She continued to pull gently, guiding him out of it. The fabric was soaked and heavy in her hands and it made a wet noise as she dropped it to the floor.
For the first time, her eyes landed on the scar.
It was much bigger than she had imagined. She realized for the first time how bad the accident actually had been. The jagged scar stretched from beneath his collarbone down against part of his chest in a rounded sort of shape. Tendons, nerves, and muscle. All of it must have been ripped apart. It looked so painful. So incredibly painful. It was pink and thick, like it had just finished healing. Eloise tried to choke back the wave of emotions she felt while looking at it. Bucky was looking away, running a hand over his face.
"Can I?" She tried to keep her voice steady, but it shook as it left her lips.
Bucky sighed, exhaling deeply before nodding quickly. Almost like he was preparing for it to be painful.
She carefully moved her fingers along it, and he jumped.
"Sorry...I just...No one's touched it–" He turned his head slightly.
It felt raised under her finger tips. It looked angry. And terrifying. And like a permanent reminder. She traced it carefully from the top to the bottom.
"Are you in pain?" She looked up at him. He gave her something between a nod and a shrug.
His skin was still burning, and she could see the beads of sweat forming over his chest. Her eyes shifted quickly to the tags around his neck. She hadn't even noticed them until now. She reached for the chain, and let it run through her grip as she moved her hand down to the shiny silver tags that reflected slightly in the dark.
"James Buchanan Barnes" She read to herself. "March 10th. That's soon, you're getting old" She teased, coaxing a slight chuckle from him.
"You first, Ms. January 9th. Didn't think I'd forget, did you?" His voice sounded a bit more lively.
"I was hoping you would" She gave him a displeased look.
"You can take these off too. If you want." She whispered.
Bucky didn't say anything, his eyes shifted to her hand holding the dog tags.
"I guess I don't really need them anymore" He shrugged, still struggling to piece his words together without the shake in his voice.
Eloise shook her head.
"You don't" She smiled. "You're home".