I'm With You 'Til the End of the Line- Stucky Oneshots (Marvel)

Thunder

Bucky had appeared at Steve's door 8 nights before, cold, underweight and scared. He had looked just like an old stray dog, unloved and uncared for. Obviously, Steve changed all of that, he took him in, fed him, clothed him and insisted he stay with him, at least for a little while.

It was hard for Steve in the first couple of days, he kept forgetting that Bucky had changed, that he had been through hell and back, and Steve hadn't been there to help him. Bucky still only remembered small fragments of his past, little meaningless sections. Sometimes he would suddenly have a flashback and he'd remember something completely unrelated to what was happening at that point in time. It was random and unpredictable, and sometimes downright petrifying. Sometimes, however, it was triggered.
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It was 3 in the morning when the storm started. Bucky was sleeping in Steve's bed while Steve was busy snoozing on the sofa. Steve had been woken up by what he assumed was the thunder and lightning that had been forecast for that night, he quickly realised that wasn't the case. He could her the moaning and whimpering coming from his bedroom and could tell instantly that something was very wrong. All of a sudden Bucky screamed out Steve's name, not quite reaching the end before his voice cracked and went quiet.

'I'm coming Bucky, you're okay,' Steve rushed through to the bedroom, fear etched upon his perfectly chiselled face. 'What's up buddy?'

Bucky was sitting bolt upright in bed, his blue-green eyes blown wide with fright. 'Hey, what happened? Was it nightmares?' Steve cooed to Bucky softly, making sure not to startle the still wary man, he was like a frightened dear, one wrong move and he'd bound off without a second thought.

'No.' Bucky didn't look at Steve, he just stared straight ahead, still partially in Winter Soldier mode. It hurt Steve, to see his best friend like this, different, scared. Bucky didn't elaborate on his answer so Steve moved to sit on the edge of the bed and tried again.

'What was it Buck? I can't help you if you don't speak to me.' Bucky slowly turned to look at Steve, every muscle in his body tensed, ready to react to any sudden movement.

'Thunder. I don't like the thunder.' Steve looked puzzled for a minute, Bucky had never been scared of thunder before. Bucky used to sit outside and watch the lightning fork through the sky when they were younger, counting the seconds between each rumble of thunder and bright spark of lightning.

After a few minutes of Bucky and Steve watching each other warily Bucky spoke again. 'It-it reminds me of the train. The thunder sounds like the train. It's one of the first things I remembered, falling from that train. I tried to reach out for you, I did, but I couldn't reach. The sound of the train thudding along the tracks, it scares me.' Bucky looked down as a single tear flowed down his cheek. Another rumble of thunder broke the silence and Bucky froze, a small whine escaping his pink lips.

'Hold me. Please.' It wasn't at all what Steve had expected, but he did as he was asked and moved to sit on the bed next to Bucky. He wrapped his muscular arm around Bucky's thinner shoulders and pulled him in, sharing his warmth. Bucky took a deep breath in, inhaling Steve's distinct smell, cologne mixed with coffee, it was oddly comforting.

After a few minutes Bucky went rigid, his whole body frozen solid, his eyes glazed over and he stopped breathing for a second. He clutched his head and whined, a pitiful, pained sound. 'What's wrong Buck? Is it a migraine? I have some paracetamol somewhere if you need it.'

'No, not a migraine. Flashback.' Bucky looked up at Steve with a happier expression on his face, one of recognition. 'It was when we were younger. It was a night like this, except you were the one who was petrified. You clung to my jumper and cried because you were scared the sky was going to eat you. I was laughing at you, but not mocking, in a more friendly, understanding way.' Bucky smiled up at Steve, 'do you remember that?'

'Yeah, I do Buck. You used to make me cocoa on stormy nights, it was the only way you could get me to sleep.' Steve smiled fondly at the memory, thinking back to when they were young and innocent, when life was easier. 'Hey, I think I might actually have some cocoa in the kitchen, do you want some?'

Bucky's face lit up with he most beautiful smile, 'yes please, Stevie.' Steve hopped out of bed and smiled at the nickname, it was the first time Bucky had used it since before the war. 'I'll only be two minutes, okay. Will you be fine?' Bucky nodded his head and motioned for Steve to get going.

Five minutes later Steve appeared with two mugs of steaming hot cocoa, topped with whipped cream, marshmallows and a dusting of cinnamon.

'You're three minutes forty-two seconds late.' Bucky reached out for his mug and patted the bed next to him, wanting Steve to sit down again. Steve yawned loudly, his eyes looking sleepy. He sank onto the bed next to Bucky and settled down. 'I don't mean to be trouble Steve, but I can't help it. You don't have to let me stay if it's going to affect you, I can find my own place. I done an you missing out on sleep because of me.'

Steve looked shocked. 'Seventy years ago I lost my best friend, it hurt like you wouldn't believe. I thought of him every day and now that I've got him back, he thinks he's a nuisance!' Steve let out a sigh of mock exasperation. 'I know I was always the smart one, but really Bucky? You think I'm going to let go of you that easily?' Steve reached up and ruffled Bucky's hair fondly, remembering it always being the other way around.

More thunder rumbled and Bucky tried to curl up closer to Steve. They finished their cocoa in comfortable silence before Bucky fell asleep, Steve's arm still around his shoulders. Steve looked down fondly at Bucky, wishing he would realise how much he meant to Steve. Maybe one day he would, but everything takes time, Steve was willing to wait though, just not too long. He didn't want to lose his friend a third time.

He placed his mug on the bedside table and closed his eyes, squeezing Bucky's shoulders before nodding of, his sleep filled with dreams and memories of 'the good old days', hoping, that in time, Bucky would remember. Steve was happy to help in any way he could and would stick by him, no matter how rough things got, he would pull through the storm and would be better for it when he reached the other side. He was willing to do anything for Bucky. He was with him 'til the end of the line.