Bucky's Anchor

Chapter 75 - Winds of Change

The coastal breeze greets us as we arrive at Sam's family boat. The warm sun bounces off the water, casting glimmering reflections on the boat's deck. It's peaceful here, a perfect getaway from the growing weight of the world—and the even heavier weight on my mind.

Bucky's hand rests protectively on my lower back as we walk toward Sam, who is already waiting for us with a grin on his face. His laughter breaks through the air as he strides over to greet us.

"Well, well, if it isn't the Barnes family," Sam says, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "How's dad life treating you, Bucky?"

Bucky snorts, offering Sam a small, hesitant smile. "I don't know if I'd call it dad life yet."

Sam shakes his head, clapping Bucky on the back. "Oh, it's happening, man. Trust me, it's going to hit you fast. One day you're going to wake up, look at that kid, and boom—you'll be dad."

Bucky's chuckle is tight, the corners of his lips twitching into something that could resemble a smile, but I can see the nerves hiding beneath it. His eyes flick toward me for a moment, checking in, before he returns his attention to Sam.

Sam pulls me into a hug next. "And how are you, mom?"

I smile, feeling a warm sense of comfort in his presence. "Hanging in there," I reply. "Four months down, five more to go."

We all make our way to the deck, settling into the chairs scattered around the boat. The gentle sway of the water beneath us brings a sense of calm that I hadn't realized I needed. It's nice being here, away from the worries of the future, even if it's just for a little while.

---

As we chat and laugh, I feel a strange sensation stir in my stomach. At first, I try to push through it, nodding along as Sam tells a story about something ridiculous Bucky did on their last mission. But the queasiness begins to grow, and soon it's impossible to ignore.

I press a hand to my stomach, trying to stay composed. I don't want to worry Bucky, but the nausea hits harder this time.

I stand, excusing myself as casually as I can. "I'll be right back," I say, forcing a smile.

But Bucky's sharp eyes catch everything. Before I can take another step, his hand gently grips my arm. "What's wrong?"

"It's nothing," I reply quickly, trying to keep my voice light. "Just a little morning sickness."

His eyes darken with concern, and he's on his feet in an instant. "Are you sure? You don't look good."

I wave him off, though the dizziness swells inside me. "I just need a minute."

But Bucky's already at my side, his hands hovering as if unsure whether to guide me or let me find my balance. I can feel the intensity of his worry radiating off him, like he's bracing himself for the worst.

"You should sit down," he says firmly, his voice laced with the same quiet panic I've grown used to lately.

I nod, unable to argue as another wave of nausea hits. Bucky helps me inside the cabin of the boat, guiding me to sit on one of the benches, his hand never leaving mine.

---

As I sit, trying to breathe through the nausea, Bucky paces the small cabin, eyes darting between me and the door, as if ready to call Sam for help at any moment. His protectiveness has always been a part of who he is, but since the pregnancy, it's intensified.

"Do you need water? Food? Should we leave? We can get you to a doctor—" Bucky's voice is tight, his panic building with every word.

I shake my head, forcing a smile despite the discomfort. "Bucky, I'm fine. This is normal. Just part of being pregnant."

He doesn't look convinced, his brow furrowed, worry written all over his face. He sits beside me, his hand resting lightly on my knee as though afraid I might shatter under his touch.

"You shouldn't have to go through this," he murmurs, his voice softer now, like he's talking more to himself than to me.

I reach for his hand, intertwining our fingers. "It's not as bad as it looks," I reassure him. "It's just one of those things. It'll pass."

But Bucky doesn't relax. He's still tense, like he's waiting for something to go wrong, his grip on my hand tight.

Sam walks in then, raising an eyebrow at the scene in front of him. "Everything alright in here?"

"Bucky's going into full dad mode," I say with a chuckle, though it's more for Sam's benefit than anything.

Sam crosses his arms, giving Bucky a knowing look. "She's fine, man. It's just morning sickness. You're going to drive her crazy if you keep hovering like that."

Bucky sighs, running a hand through his hair. "I just... I don't want anything to happen."

I squeeze his hand, leaning my head on his shoulder. "Nothing's going to happen. We're okay. I'm okay."

---

Later, when we're back out on the deck and Sam steps away to get something from inside, I take the opportunity to talk to Bucky. His worry has been building over the past few months, and while I appreciate his concern, I know it's starting to weigh him down.

"Bucky," I say softly, turning to face him fully. "You need to relax a little. It's okay to worry, but you can't keep living like you're waiting for something bad to happen."

He looks at me, his expression troubled. "I can't help it, Emily. I just... I don't want to lose you. Or the baby."

"You won't," I reply gently. "We're both strong. And we're in this together, remember?"

He sighs, rubbing the back of his neck, his eyes drifting out toward the water. "It's hard to shake the feeling that something's going to go wrong. That I'll fail somehow."

"You won't," I insist, reaching for his hand. "I know you. I know what's in your heart. You're not going to fail, Bucky. You love us too much to let anything happen."

He swallows hard, his eyes glassy as he meets my gaze. "What if love isn't enough?"

I smile softly, cupping his face with my hand. "It's more than enough. You've proven that time and time again. You're here, with me, and that's all I need."

For a moment, he just stares at me, his expression a mix of gratitude and fear. Then he leans in, pressing his forehead to mine. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

"You'll never have to find out," I whisper back, my heart swelling with love for him.

In that moment, the weight of his worry seems to lighten just a little. He exhales, pulling me closer, and we sit together in the fading light, the peaceful sway of the boat beneath us. For now, this is enough.