The long lost Barnes

Breaking Through

Day Twenty-Seven: A Moment of Solitude

The compound was quieter than usual, the buzz of the mission and its aftermath fading into the background. After the chaos of their discovery in Siberia, the team needed time to process, to regroup. For Bucky, however, there was no real peace. Not yet. Not with Leia still carrying the weight of Hydra's abuse, and not with the tension that had developed between her and Steve.

The truth had come crashing down on them all too quickly, and it had left a fracture in the team that was impossible to ignore. Steve's guilt, Leia's anger—it all hung in the air like a storm waiting to break. Even Wanda and Natasha, who had both been there when the files came through, couldn't hide their concern.

But for now, they were all scattered, each processing the mission in their own way. Bucky, however, had one focus: Leia.

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It was late, the dark sky stretching above the compound. Bucky had spent most of the evening in the gym, working off the frustration that had been building in him since they discovered the truth about Hydra's continued experiments. The weight of it was like a weight in his chest—he had never wanted Leia to know what had happened to her, to learn the extent of Hydra's manipulation. But the truth had a way of revealing itself, no matter how much they tried to hide it.

After a long, grueling workout, Bucky found himself wandering the hallways, his mind restless. He wasn't sure what he was looking for, but he felt the pull of something familiar, something that called him to Leia's quarters.

He knocked softly, not expecting an answer. But when the door creaked open, there she was—dressed in a loose shirt and sweatpants, her hair still damp from a shower. Her eyes were heavy with exhaustion, but she smiled at the sight of him, though there was a sadness in her gaze that hadn't been there before.

"Can we talk?" Bucky asked gently, his voice low.

Leia hesitated for a moment before stepping aside to let him in. "Sure."

The door clicked shut behind him, and for a moment, there was just silence. They stood across from each other, the space between them full of unspoken words. Bucky could feel the weight of the last few days hanging over them both. The strain between them was palpable, but beneath it, there was something more—something he couldn't ignore.

He watched her for a moment, wondering how much of the woman he once knew was still in there. She had changed, yes, but the fire in her eyes, the strength, that was still her. She was just lost, like he had been once. And, like him, she would find her way back.

Finally, Bucky broke the silence. "I don't want to push you, Leia. But I can't keep pretending like everything's okay. I know you're carrying a lot—everything that happened to you, what Hydra did. I just... I want to help you. I want to be here for you."

Leia looked at him, her brow furrowed as she considered his words. The tension between them had always been there, a lingering heaviness neither of them could shake. But now, it was different. She wasn't running anymore.

"I don't know how to let you in," she admitted quietly, her voice trembling just slightly. "I don't know how to let anyone in. I can't trust anyone anymore, not even myself."

Bucky took a step closer, his hand reaching out, but he stopped short, waiting for her to decide if she was ready. He didn't want to make her feel cornered, but he couldn't ignore the ache inside him—he needed her to understand.

"I know what it's like to feel like you're broken," he said softly. "I've felt it too. But I'm still here. And I'm not going anywhere. I'm not asking you to trust me right away, but I need you to know—whatever you're going through, I'm with you. You're not alone in this."

Leia's eyes softened slightly, and she took a shaky breath. She reached out to him then, not pulling him in but allowing herself to be near him. And that, to Bucky, was everything. It was a sign that she wasn't shutting him out anymore.

Without a word, he closed the space between them and gently cupped her face in his hands. His thumb brushed against her cheek, feeling the warmth of her skin under his touch. For a moment, neither of them moved, simply allowing the closeness to speak for them.

Leia's breath caught as she leaned into him, her eyes fluttering shut. She was trembling, just slightly, but Bucky didn't pull away. He wanted her to feel safe with him, to know that he wasn't going to force anything. She was still healing, still fragile—but in that moment, he wanted to hold her, to be close to her, to let her know that whatever happened, they would figure it out together.

Slowly, tentatively, she leaned up, and their lips met in a kiss—soft at first, a gentle meeting of lips, like two people who had been waiting for this moment, but unsure how to cross the line. It wasn't rushed, and it wasn't forceful. It was a connection—a rediscovery of something that had once been so easy, so familiar.

Leia's hands rested against his chest, and as the kiss deepened, she let herself feel the comfort of his embrace. It was like stepping into the warmth of something safe, something that had been missing for so long. Bucky's arms wrapped around her, pulling her close as if he could shield her from the world, from everything that had happened to her.

For a long time, they stayed like that, tangled in each other's arms, letting the world fall away. There was no talk of Hydra, no talk of the mission. There was just the quiet comfort of being together again.

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When Bucky woke up the next morning, the light filtering through the blinds of Leia's room, he felt a strange sense of peace. It was a tentative peace, one he knew wouldn't last forever, but it was there—shared between them.

Leia lay beside him, still asleep, her hair spread out across the pillow. She looked more peaceful than she had in days. There was no tension in her face, no frown of worry. Just the quietness of a woman who had allowed herself a moment of rest.

Bucky's heart swelled with the quiet promise of that moment. He knew there were still obstacles ahead, still much for them to face. But right now, in the stillness of the morning, he felt something he hadn't felt in a long time—hope.

Leia stirred beside him, and her eyes fluttered open, meeting his with a soft, unsure gaze.

"Morning," Bucky said softly, brushing a strand of hair from her forehead.

"Morning," she replied, her voice rough from sleep. But there was something in her eyes now—a lightness, a spark—that hadn't been there before.

Bucky smiled, his hand finding hers beneath the covers. "We're going to get through this, Leia. Together. Whatever it takes."

She squeezed his hand, her lips curving into a small, uncertain smile. "I want to believe that," she said quietly. "I really do."

And for the first time in weeks, Bucky believed her.