Words On My Skin

Chapter 3

"Finally." You sighed in relief, slumping in your plush desk chair.

You'd finally finished your damn paperwork. Before noon. It seemed like every time you got back to your office, the stupid paperwork would grow, grow, and grow some more. You were finally on schedule, and all caught up.

Things had been hectic, the last few weeks.

First, your nightmares had been getting worse. You were waking up screaming, sweating, thrashing, and sobbing almost every night. Things hadn't been getting better, and it was starting to affect your daily life. It was hard to concentrate on even the most mundane of tasks, due to your exhaustion. You were drinking coffee more than you were drinking water, most days, and had lost a little weight. Thankfully, no one but Bucky had noticed, but you just...

You weren't ready to tell him about your nightmares, yet.

Second, the team had gotten called away on a mission. The only ones that stayed behind where Dr. Banner and the high school kid – because he had exams, or something, and Tony was cracking down on him completing his school work. That meant that your workload was lighter, but you were constantly worried about everyone's safety, and dreading every phone call – thinking that it was going to be the call where they told you that your soulmate died.

You'd had to repeat your mantra so many times that the words 'handshake your fear' were starting to feel like foreign words.

When they'd finally gotten back from their mission, two weeks later, they were all beaten down and upset.

You'd met them out near the landing pad, biting your thumbnail and tapping your foot in anticipation, with Bruce and Peter chatting away next to you.

As the team exited the jet, you could tell right away that something was wrong. They were covered in dust, blood, and sweat. They all sagged with exhaustion, and defeat, as they limped down the ramp and made their way indoors to Med Bay to be checked out.

Bucky and Steve were the last to exit the jet, without the HYDRA agent they were supposed to be capturing.

As your eyes made contact with Bucky's, you felt like an entire metric ton had been lifted off your chest. You could breathe in a proper breath. Your shoulders felt lighter. Your thumbnail left your mouth, and your hands moved to your sides as you saw a look of relief wash over Bucky's dirty face.

He broke away from Steve, limping over to you with a relieved smile.

Without a word, his arms wrapped around your waist, and he pulled you into his chest – bending so his sweaty forehead was resting on your shoulder.

Your heart leapt, and your eyebrows shot up in surprise.

That was the most physical contact – aside from Bucky's self-defense training – that you two had ever shared.

He'd held your hand, a lot, but he'd never hugged you, before. The hug was the most intimate contact that you two had shared, and you didn't want to waste a second of it.

Your arms wrapped around his wide shoulders, and your eyes slipped closed as you rested your chin against him. His face was warm against the thin material of your light blouse, and he seemed to be breathing you in – taking in large, shuddering breaths, and exhaling slowly. He smelled like he had run through a burning building – smelling like smoke, dust, and sweat. The rough material of his suit was pressing against your chest, and you could feel the dirt that he was covered in falling onto your open-toed shoes.

Whatever happened... you silently thanked the heavens that he was alive.

"I'm sorry." He muttered softly after a moment, head still against your shoulder. "I'm ruining your clothes."