Work Text:
Sommeil
Sarah had elected the most thoughtful course of actions. She had attempted to remain silent while making her way through the poorly lit living room where Sam had chosen to host his friend, partner, or co-worker.
Sarah did not know what they were to each other, and she was sure they did not know as well. Sam left out the title of said relationship when he had casually informed her that they had a guess, and his name was James. It turned out James was the infamous winter soldier, and Sarah had only shrugged it off when he had extended a hand and introduced himself as Bucky. She did not want to know about the superhero thing besides the fact that her brother was being cautious and safe.
Presently, such knowledge on their relationship or superhero business did not matter. Sarah only wanted to cross the living room and reach the kitchen without any noise. She had been craving enough sugar to send a diabetic person into a crisis. The stock of cookies, which she hid from her sons, was calling her name.
With two sons, a binge on processed sugar was a luxury or a crime committed at night. She did not want to share her supply because she would have nothing left. Therefore, Sarah's journey to her midnight snack had led her to the present awkwardness.
In the dark living room, Sarah stopped moving. She could hear sounds. She attempted to recognize the sound, which broke the heavy silence around her. Sarah stretched her ear and hoped to find the source. It quickly turned out to be a futile task. The silence had returned.
For a few seconds, Sarah stood in the middle of the room. Her confusion made her question her sanity. Perhaps, Sarah was panicking because she moved like a thief around her house over some baked goods.
Sarah waited another couple of seconds to see if she would catch that sound again. With a deafening silence as an answer to her doubt, it was safe to take another step forward. The noise might have been a figment of her imagination.
Reassured, Sarah decided to pursue her journey. She only needed to make it to the kitchen. The door was a few feet away, and she could power walk toward it. Sarah only chose not to run because Cass and AJ might have littered the floor with toys. She did not want to trip and wake Sam's guest.
When she started to forget about what she heard, a soft sound drew her attention. For a few seconds, Sarah paused and heard it again. The echo was a small whimper, which could be imperceptible in the silent room. Confused, she looked around her, trying to establish where it came from, and she did not know if she needed to panic.
Although, Sarah's doubts quickly cleared. The small whimpers grew louder, and she could not help but follow the noise. There was a sense of discomfort to those sounds, and it provoked her curiosity.
Following said noise, Sarah found herself further away from the kitchen, and soon, she stood before the couch. After a glance at the source of those sounds of unease, she immediately regretted her curiosity. Sarah sighed, and she held her breath before what she saw.
Before her, He was asleep. He closed around himself in a protective cocoon. Creases and wrinkles marked his turmoil on his forehead. From a glance, Sarah could say he was in pain.
Sarah only looked at him with concern. From habits with the children, she could tell fear from a simple look. Their guest, Bucky, was certainly scared. His whimpers ruined the quietness of the room, and the more Sarah listened, she could swear that Bucky might have been weeping.
His body was glistening with sweat despite the lack of light. Bucky was a ball of tense muscles, and Sarah had to withhold the desire to offer him some relief with either a quick brush of her fingers on his hair or a soothing caress on his back. Sarah looked at him carefully, and his trembling body reminded her of what her sons went through after her husband's death, nightmares.
Sarah had stumbled on Bucky having a nightmare, and she was uncertain on what to do. She did not know if she should retreat or reassure him. Sarah looked at Bucky while she attempted to decide.
Bucky was trembling like a leaf in the autumn wind. His forehead remained covered in a cold sweat. He changed his posture and further burrowed into the couch as if he wanted to crawl beneath the pillows and hide. Whatever he was dreaming about seemed traumatic enough to leave a grown man with a metal arm scared like a small child.
Sarah looked over him and hesitated. It felt inherently wrong to watch him while he slept, and yet it felt cruel to walk away when she could see how terrified he was. She was of no real help, but to leave him alone with his fear may be a form of cruelty, which Sarah could not accomplish.
Despite the darkness surrounding the room, she could see his expression. However, Sarah was beginning to feel uncomfortable. It felt as if she had walked into a private moment, or at least that was how she perceived it.
Nightmares were private by essence. They were the manifestation of one weakness and fears, and those were inherently things, which someone would not share. Sarah looked at Bucky. She felt a bit embarrassed for not leaving immediately. Sarah did not want to intrude, and yet she could not bring herself to leave.
Therefore, in doubts, she stayed as he whimpered, trembled, and suffered. The small blanket, which covered him, had started to fall. Bucky certainly did not need it because the living room was hot, but he was shivering.
Sarah caught the blanket before it fell, and she fixed it. Bucky moved around, and his body grazed her hand. She rushed to pull it away. Sarah did not want to disturb him further nor to invade Bucky's privacy. Bucky's nightmares were his, and she had no right watching him fight through them. She ultimately decided to walk away from him.
Sarah took a step back, and now she needed that sugar rush more than ever. However, she did not make it far enough to miss the next sound to leave his throat.
This time, it was not a whimper. The sound was ugly and throaty, and one that came from agony. Sarah had never heard pain so simply voiced. She lost her will to leave.
Sarah stepped back, and she pondered on her best move. If she could not leave him while he was agonizing under the weight of his fear, she could not also help much by invading his privacy. The solution to the issue was simple. She could drag him out of his nightmare. She would wake him up.
Sarah hesitantly extended her hand to wake Bucky up. She carefully reached for his chest with her fingers stretched as far as they could. Sarah would not be in his step when he woke up. She would softly shake him awake, and she would be on her way to the kitchen. Nothing wrong could happen.
After working on the theory, Sarah thought it was perfect. All she had to do was to wake Bucky up delicately. Yet, the practicality proved itself questionable. Sarah had forgotten an important detail, Bucky's soldier senses.
Sarah could only notice it as Bucky's hand closed around her wrist as soon as she gently pushed his shoulder, and then he swiftly pulled her forward. A cry of surprise escaped her mouth, and it all unfolded in matters of seconds.
Having happened too fast for her understanding, Sarah could not initially describe what transpired in the last five seconds. However, she could tell that her face was on the sofa, and Bucky held her hand. She could feel a twinge of pain around her shoulder.
Speechless, Sarah only brought herself to whimper and yelped. So much for trying to help, and now she was about to die. Sarah could not tell but certainly felt her shoulder wincing. Again, she cried, and then the pain ended.
"Sorry," His raspy voice came as a whisper.
The word came as quickly as Sarah had found herself unable to move. Bucky disarmed for lack of a better word, and she only began to understand it as Bucky freed her arm. Despite her sudden freedom, Sarah did not rise from the couch to run. She laid there trying to recover from the initial shock. His weight was no longer on her back.
"It's me," Sarah said with slight fright. "Sam's sister." She added for safety. "Sarah," She stuttered.
"Sorry," Bucky repeated, and he awkwardly attempted to help Sarah. "I…" He paused, trying to explain his reaction. "I live alone," he says. "And I have…" He thought of a way to put it. "Enemies." He gave up on policing his language. "I'm sorry for…" He looked at her.
"Trying to kill me," She suggested.
Bucky frowned, and she felt a bit remorseful over her choice of word.
"Subdued you," Bucky clarified. "And going into…" He paused, attempting to find a better word to explain his reflexes. "Winter soldier mode."
"Okay," She did not know what could follow such a statement. "I…" Sarah carefully sat down. "Oh god," she lamented as she was trying to move her arm.
"Sorry again," Bucky said. "I'm so sorry." He sincerely added.
"That's okay," Sarah replied, and she was regaining sensation in her shoulder. "Nothing broken or bruised." She quietly said. "I'm sorry as well. It's a bit my fault. I was trying to wake you up."
Bucky looked at her. She did not know if she said something because he was intensely staring at her. She moved slightly uncomfortable with the scrutiny.
"Nightmares," Sarah blurted out. "You had nightmares, and I thought it would be okay to wake you up."
Bucky did not immediately speak. He picked the blanket from the floor and laid it on the couch. After a few seconds of discomfort, Bucky looked at Sarah.
"Did I wake you up?" He hesitated, and concern was present on his face. "Is that why…" Bucky slowly sat on the couch. His head fell on his hands, and he did not know if he should be embarrassed or regretful for having given into his nightmare to the point where someone else could hear him be frightened. "I'm sorry." He repeated quietly and with hope to dismiss her politely.
"For?" Sarah asked, and carefully, she moved to the corner of the sofa.
Bucky did not reply immediately. He drew a breath and faced his palms. Somehow, he had not ceased to tremble. His body was still relieving his nightmares.
"I didn't intend to wake you up," He exhaustively declared. "I…" He searched his mind for what to say next. "Sorry," He graciously added. "I will try to sleep quietly now," he assured Sarah despite having no control over such things, and maybe any lack of control on his mind always scared him.
"No worries," Sarah softly smirked. "I was already on my way to the kitchen. I barely heard anything." She rushes to add, as his discomfort does not escape her. "And I should be heading back to the kitchen." Sarah quickly stood, and she politely wanted to escape the awkwardness. "You might want something from there." She kindly asked.
Bucky simply shook his head. Whatever he wanted had been long lost. His mind had lost peace, and now he could hardly sleep.
"Anything," She insisted while walking out. "It's a quick run." She smiled again, and Bucky felt a sort of alleviation of the tension in the room. "Like I insist."
"A way to fall asleep," He retorted. "Or I might not sleep. It would be better that way."
"I'll try to see what I can do." Sarah left the room.
He did not expect her to return immediately. Bucky undoubtedly knew he had made Sarah uncomfortable. Their little exchange had left a bitter taste on his tongue.
Bucky felt as if he had overshared, and he was sure she had not preyed on his thoughts. He had shared a little to silence her concern. He always found it unnecessary when anyone showed him concern. Tonight, Bucky did not immediately dislike the look of care. Undoubtedly, the absence of pity helped, but her sincerity solidified his belief. Sarah was concerned, and he drew some comfort from it.
Now, he was feeling bad for what he had said. Bucky could only overthink a forty seconds conversation. He felt terrible for attacking her. Facing all those many reasons, Bucky could understand why Sarah had found refuge in the kitchen. She was sparing them from the awkwardness, or at least, she was escaping the weirdness of their interactions.
Bucky remained too bothered by his mind to forget their interaction. He was diligently working on a better apology for twisting her arm, and he was already thinking of a way to book a hotel in the small town. Firstly, he still had to apologize even if he was deeply uncomfortable, and Sarah was hiding in the kitchen.
Bucky left the couch, and he decided to join Sarah. He only took a few steps when she stepped out of the kitchen.
Bucky saw as she came with two hot tea mugs. The steam rising from the brewage was easy to see under the dimmed light. He rushed to help her since she had a plate of cookies in her hand and one cookie in her mouth as well.
"Not the cookies," Sarah intelligibly warned. "Those are mine. The tea is yours." She smiled.
"Thank you," Bucky said as he took one of the mugs.
"I don't know how much it could help, but hopefully, it does in some ways." Sarah gently declared as she began to head out of the living room. "Some say tea helps with sleep, and others say it is as good as coffee." She adds. "I think it covers both options."
"I'm sure it would," He hesitantly smiles. "Thank you." He adds with sincerity.
"And here?" She returns to the room and extends the plate toward Bucky. "Just one."
Bucky always woke up when he heard Sarah's steps. He has been crashing longer on the Wilsons' couch, and so far, the Wilson siblings did not complain. Bucky himself had found an unexpected sense of comfort on that couch.
Although, that comfort quickly faded at night when the nightmares returned. Yet, Bucky had not had better nights than the one spent in the Wilsons' home. Sarah's steps had become his alarm clock and a way to escape his nightmare.
Tonight, it was no different. Bucky was already awake as her foot hit the last step of the stair. He quietly waited for her silhouette to pass by the couch while on her way to the kitchen. Bucky anticipated the glance that Sarah always threw over to see if he was sleeping comfortably. He almost assumed that she would smile once she found him with closed eyes and a peaceful expression.
Undoubtedly, Sarah did all of it as Bucky heard the last echoes of her steps. She was now in the kitchen, and he could stop pretending to sleep. Bucky opened his eyes, and he stared at the ceiling. He was unsure about sleeping, but he also did not want another sleepiness night.
Bucky settled for reverie. He could not help himself as he heard small noises from the kitchen. Thinking of Sarah was an uncanny comfort because it usually embarrassed him. He had not seen enough of her to dream of her or anything. She was just a pleasant thought, and it did not have enough of those. Even his past happier days had lost flavour and quickly reminded Bucky how Hydra had snatched life from him.
Sarah was more a safe thought. It was like his final days in Wakanda. Those little bright thoughts, which permitted him to have some comfort, stayed with him. Bucky stared at the ceiling, and he focused on the noise in the kitchen. In a few seconds, she would probably pass with a plate filled with cookies.
Bucky missed her return from the kitchen. His reverie had engrossed him enough, and Sarah had made sure to tiptoe around him. When he noticed that the seconds had passed and it was time again to pretend that he slept peacefully, she was already staring at him.
"To help," Sarah said as she placed a mug of tea before Bucky.
He blinked, unknowing what to say. Sarah wore an expression that told him that she knew about his other sleepless nights and maybe he was not fooling her. Bucky was only glad that she did not point it out. He looked down at the mug on the table.
"Thank you," He noiseless said.
Sarah only smiled, and she did not leave as she had done the other night. She had her mug in her hand and, as always, a plate of cookies.
"You don't mind if I sit here for a bit," Sarah timidly inquired.
Bucky stared at her to read her expression. He could tell she was embarrassed. Undoubtedly, she only had worked the courage to ask today. She had repeatedly lost her bravado the previous nights.
"Cass and AJ might smell the chocolate on my sheets in the morning." She rushed to add when he took too long to answer.
"I wouldn't mind," Bucky gave in, and she would probably be of a better company than silence and his horrid thoughts.
For a bit, there was silence, and assuredly, one could hear the other think. The tea and cookies remained untouched. Anxiety and embarrassment twisted their guts. To remediate the silence, Bucky took the remote and switched on the TV.
Bucky and Sarah found themselves watching a very uneventful show about fishing. Alongside the silence, discomfort only stretched. Sarah did not leave because it would take another amount of exceptional courage. Bucky remained because there was some warmth to her company.
"You should tell me what decent broadcasts we could watch at this hour," Bucky ultimately found his voice. "In my time, the magic box didn't have colours or so many options." He added to explain what did not need an explanation.
Sarah awkwardly laughed. She assumed it was a joke, and she looked at him for assurances that he meant it that way. Bucky did chuckle when Sarah laughed, and his little laugh left her warm and less anxious.
"Nothing," Sarah replied. "Or maybe a documentary not about fishing," she added before the response of his cocked eyebrow. "Something about traveling." Sarah clarified. "I love those," she says with small joy in her voice.
"Travelling?" Bucky inquired.
Sarah picked a cookie, and she munched on it. She was still a bit nervous. His stillness and the monotony of his voice made a simple conversation sound serious.
"No, the cheaper version," She deadpanned. "Watching shows about travelling around the world. Flying couch," She added and made her attempt to humour as well, and the result was less successful. His sense of humour was deficient.
"Oh okay," Bucky declared.
"That sounded very," Sarah suspiciously eyed him.
"Confused," Bucky offered.
Sarah's look immediately softened. She took a sip of her tea, and she pushed the plate of cookies toward Bucky.
"Confused?" She repeated, "Why?" Sarah inquired. "I love traveling, but I think the only trip I've ever been on in my entire life was a holiday in NOLA with my dad." She explained. "Not everyone can go around the world like Sam and you do," She added without judgement. "TV is a good alternative."
Bucky nodded. He could understand such concepts. He took on her advice and put on the travel channel. Sarah was right. He could see why she would love such content after a few minutes.
"I don't know about Sam, but I can't say my 'trips' were worth retelling or at least not like this." Bucky pointed at the television. "Your little holiday was probably hundred times more interesting than anything I saw around the world." He sincerely added.
"Oh it was the second best summer of my life," Sarah responded with a bright smile.
Bucky noticed that her smile was of an exquisite beauty when it did not serve to cover embarrassment. He could probably use the memory of it to push back some old thoughts. He smiled back without much effort. Her smile was contagious.
"And the best?" He inquired
"My honeymoon," Sarah responded with less glee. "Right here in this town." She added with a quiet voice,
Silence followed, and Bucky wished he did not ask.
"I'm sorry I asked," He said because it felt like the only step available, and he was sorry Sarah's smile quickly faded.
"Hmmm," She says without commitment, and she took a new sip of tea. "So that trip in New Orleans," Sarah graciously supplied the topic. "Like I said, it was long ago," She pursued, and Bucky took comfort from the warmth in her voice. "I must have been ten or eleven, and my dad had some business in the big city. I think he took me with him, and so I could get a grip about what life would be like once Sam and I took over the business." She continued. "The business part isn't what I truly remember." Sarah stopped when she noticed how little to no sound came from Bucky's side.
"I am listening," Bucky replied to her expression of doubt.
"I was oversharing," Sarah argues. "Some boring details that you surely didn't care for at this hour."
Bucky shook his head, and he smiled. He was uncertain of how it came out. He had not smiled with sincerity for a long time, and yet he often did it tonight.
"Better than what was on TV," Bucky counters. “And truly I was listening." He insists.
His smile won her over. It suited him, and she did not want it to fade. Sarah grabbed her mug to hide her smile as she sipped.
"Okay while I finish my cup," She said with an empty mug in her hands. They both noticed, but no remarks followed. Bucky was listening, and she was willing to talk his ears off for a minute. "So the business part was boring, but the trip was amazing." Sarah continued. "I don't know if you've ever been in NOLA, but it's nothing like here."
"Maybe," Bucky timidly agreed.
His memory of places had little to do with the location and more with what Hydra wanted him to accomplish in said location.
"When I return there I will make sure to look around and even get a souvenir." He said, and so she knew he was listening.
"Well," Sarah continued to speak. "I didn't get a souvenir, which is a tragedy," She lamented. "I was too busy eating and eating." She chuckled, and this time Bucky joined her with an earthy laugh. "The beignets," She could still taste the sugar on her lips despite the years, and Bucky could tell she had loved her trip from the glee in her voice alone. "The gumbo," Sarah expanded. "And the food."
Bucky listened as she talked about those creole dishes like a connoisseur. Sarah detailed in-depth the flavour of each ingredient. Bucky only listened to Sarah with a lazy smile. He found himself dreaming of a trip to New Orleans and so he could taste all that food in her company. He caught himself on that thought and erased it. Somehow, it was too greedy. Listening to Sarah sharing her joy was a gift enough to him.
"What?" Sarah asked when she noticed his curious look and the smile timidly stretching Bucky's lips.
"Nothing," Bucky replied. “You do sound like someone who loves to travel."
"I wish I did travel more," Sarah responded. "Just to get out of town." She sighed. "My husband," She halted and almost bit her tongue.
Perhaps, Sarah missed an attentive listener. She forgot she was talking because he barely made his presence known. It felt as if she was talking to herself, and it made Sarah comfortable.
"Oversharing again," Sarah declared.
"I haven't had a great conversation in a while," Bucky retorted, and he sounded comforting. "Still I would be uncomfortable if you were truly oversharing," He pointed out. "I'm pretty relaxed now next to you and having a conversation." He declared what his body had long displayed.
Sarah noticed the small distance between them. The plate of cookies was empty, and he had broken a piece to leave the half for her. She was not oversharing. He was happy to have a lively conversation.
"I'm too." Sarah paused, and she did not see herself speaking of every topic. However, she was too happy with the conversation to end it. "I would like to travel as much as Sam does, but I also love this town. I love the sea. It is like being out there on the boat and just traveling without any destination but home." Sarah said, and the topic was again safe. "Besides the cost, I think that is why I never went too far from de la Croix." She picked the half cookie and finished it. "TV is good enough. The sea is good enough, and I have so much work around here. Always had too much work." She explained with slight regrets. "Now with everything going around, it would be a perfect time to hop and leave." She said with a sigh. “I could get a camping car and start a road trip with the kids." She chuckled, but this time he did not join her. "I'm just joking." She said for both their sake.
"It sounds like a dream plan," Bucky responded, "a trailer." He made it easy for Sarah, and she smiled.
"Exactly," She chirped. "I always wanted to go on a self-discovery journey like in an Indie movie. The vintage car and some pretentious music playing loud in the car. The old Polaroid hanging somewhere would help with the ambiance." She added to help with the imagery. "I can imagine what it would look like traveling up north or heading more west." Sarah pursued, and she did not stop when she noticed that she was oversharing.
There was some comfort in talking about nothing and still expressing her heart. Bucky was listening less, but she was talking too much to notice. Bucky did not mind. Sarah was creating images for his mind, which he continuously failed to do. Bucky could endlessly listen to her cheerful voice as her words soothed his anguish.
"Ticking a bucket list and forgetting about the business," Sarah declared. "But I will miss the sea. I will miss the town. I will regret giving away the boat." She explained, and Bucky did not hear much. He leaned toward her. "So it never looks like a great time to leave." She clarified and talked a little more about the boat. Bucky stopped listening not because she was oversharing but due to how much she engrossed him into a daydream. "What about you?" Sarah asked when she felt a weight on her shoulder.
Bucky had fallen asleep, and he was using her shoulder as a pillow. Sarah waited until he deeply slept. She did not want to disturb his hard-earned rest. Sarah stayed put a few minutes until a light snore filled the quiet room, and then she carefully moved his head to the couch.
"Well, good night Bucky."
Sarah's words quickly turned into things, which she said often.
For once, Bucky was not falling asleep on Sarah's shoulder. He had returned from a mission, and he had found Sarah softly snoring on the couch. On the table before her, a plate of cookies sat, and the TV was on the travel channel.
Perhaps, she was a creature of habits. Bucky did not want to build castles in the sky. He was unfamiliar with hope, and Sarah was slowly making him hopeful. He did not know how to deal with such, and so far, Bucky was going with the flow.
Said flow often drove him into corners of his mind where he stocked memories of Sarah. Their nights of quiet conversations often took his mind away from his tormenting thoughts. For once, he felt comfortable with his thoughts. They were innocent and pleasant. Bucky did not have to fight hard to keep his sanity around Sarah. Thoughts of her were safe and comforting. They made him happy to have his mind back.
He did not fear losing his mind. Bucky did not care to control each of his thoughts, and it was a new form of freedom. The conversation with Sarah was consolidating the foundations of liberty, which he gained in Wakanda. His mind roamed free around her, and so Bucky looked forward to those conversations even though they said nothing some nights.
Tonight, Bucky had not hoped for anything. His new work with the avenger was time-consuming. He was only coming home today, and the days away had been slightly unbearable. He had lost the taste of loneliness, and so to preserve himself from it, Bucky had thought of Sarah. He could not tell which were dreams or memories. She took that much space in his mind.
Now watching her sleep on the couch, he found himself hoping. Perhaps, Sarah had thought of him. Bucky looked at her, and he refrained from waking her up despite his selfish need for a conversation. He could wait tomorrow for the sound of her voice.
Bucky looked at Sarah, and she seemed so peaceful. Wrapped in a blanket that smelled like him from the many nights he slept with it, Sarah looked content. She had wrapped herself into the fabric despite the hotness of the summer.
She was visibly suffering from the heat. Big pearls of sweat rested on her forehead and upper lip, and Bucky had noticed after staring too long. He had moved a few braids away from her visage to help reduce her discomfort. From her precarious position, Sarah could fall at any time.
Bucky carefully slid his arm beneath her, and he lifted Sarah from the couch. Bucky knew her body would ache in the morning if Sarah slept a little longer on the furniture.
Bucky delicately held her, and he nested her head on his shoulder. He did not want Sarah to wake up while he carried her to her room. Bucky carefully approached the journey to Sarah's room. He held her like sacred gold, precious and meant to keep the Gods happy. He reached her room after a few minutes.
Once in her room, Bucky carefully laid Sarah on her bed. She had tightly held his blanket, and so now, he did not have to tuck her. Bucky still fixed the sheet, and after doing so meticulously, he began to leave the room. Although, Bucky did not make it too far. Sarah's hand closed around his shirt.
"I'm not sleeping," She declared with closed eyes and a voice deformed by sleep.
Bucky halted his exit, and he returned on his steps. Sarah blindly began to search for the switch of the bedside lamp, but she had to stop when Bucky's fingers glazed her hand.
"Well, you should be." Bucky declared as he returned Sarah's hand to her side. He pulled the blanket higher in an attempt to tuck her. "It’s pretty late."
"Is it?" She said as she sat and began to rub on her eyelids.
Bucky did not need to be a genius to understand that she was making a sacrifice and wasting her precious sleep to talk with him. She was a mother of two, and so sleep was a luxury hardly afforded.
"Sarah?" He said with almost a chastising tone. "You can go back to sleep." He insisted.
Sarah did nothing of Bucky's suggestion, and she leaned toward her bedside cupboard. In the dark, she barely noticed Bucky's proximity, but when she switched on the light, his face was an inch away from hers. She could look into his eyes. Sarah froze for a second. Bucky's surprise took her back as well, but his look spoke of a type of joy at the sight of her, which left her confused and intrigued. She quickly pulled away as his nose began to fill her eyes, and it brushed her cheek.
"That's okay," Sarah said in a breath.
Those words meant everything. It was reassuring to herself. Everything was okay, even the little moment, which happened seconds ago.
"I was only resting my eyes," She pursued after clearing her throat and purging her mind from thoughts, which were never too far. Sarah had been thinking a lot about Bucky lately. “and I think I left water for tea," she added as she regained all her sense.
"Tea?" Bucky repeated.
Without much a thought, Bucky sat on the corner of Sarah's bed.
"Yes," Sarah responded, and she took his present position on her bed as a tacit agreement to go about their nightly routine. "Sam said you'd arrive a tad bit later, and I thought you'd be in need of sleep." She plainly stated.
Bucky's throat dried, and he looked at Sarah. For a few seconds, he waited for her to say more before he dwelled on her words and their consequences on his emotional state. When he came to his conclusion, Bucky could not help the smile spreading on his lips.
"You were waiting for me," He spoke so quietly that Sarah had to stretch her ear.
"Do you have an issue with that?" She inquired.
"No," Bucky rushed to answer. "Absolutely not." He emphasized.
Sarah chuckled at his eagerness to stand by her weirdness. Although, she did not feel too weird for waiting for Bucky's return home. The two previous nights had felt empty, and she had discovered that she missed him enough to think of him.
"Good," Sarah declared. "Because then it would have made everything awkward." She sincerely pointed out. "I would have to look for a good explanation for why I did that. Then it wouldn't be good. I would be mumbling and saying nothing good. I would be embarrassed and blushing. I kind of have an explanation." She said as she mumbled and failed to explain herself without embarrassment.
"Do you have a good explanation?" Bucky asked with his most charming smile.
"Absolutely," Sarah breathed out to recover from the last seconds of endless explanation. "An unexpected one," she added to think of anything besides the weird interpretation attached to wanting his company despite having it more nights than she can count. "We're fast friends," Sarah deadpanned.
Bucky cocked an eyebrow. He had expected something in the line of his thoughts and wanted his fantasy spoken through Sarah's mouth. He wished she had missed him and concluded that he was essential to her peaceful night. Perhaps, he would be better off voicing his thoughts.
"That's a good one." He retorted. "I may have to borrow it right now." Bucky pursued.
Sarah looked at Bucky with curiosity.
"Feel free to do so," She commented. "It will be...embarrassing if it was one sided." She looked at him, and her words took a different meaning.
"I don't have to explain this now."
Bucky dug into his pocket, and he pulled a small trinket. He put the replica of the Lincoln status in Sarah's hands.
"A present," her smile echoed in her voice. "You brought me a souvenir." She ecstatically added and brought the replica close to her eyes to examine it. "Thank you." She breathed out, and her smile was prettier than all the other nights when they sat before the TV and talked.
"I stayed longer." Bucky explained for the sake of conversation. He wanted to enjoy her smile a little longer. "I thought I would travel. I have at least a local meal." He pursued, "and I thought you would love a souvenir. It's not from Nola, but you can start a little collection." He finished.
Sarah smiled bigger than before, and he stared at her joy, wanting some of it. She managed to give him little happiness here and there, and tonight was no different. He did not move. Bucky sat in the corner. They remained in a comforting silence until Sarah began to yawn.
"That's my cue," Bucky declared, and he still waited for Sarah to free him of her charm.
"You have a goodnight, Bucky." She softly said as she gently kissed his cheek.
"I will try to," He responded with honesty. "Goodnight, Sarah."
Sarah did not mean to eavesdrop, but she had heard giggles from her sons' room. Later, she had caught his voice, and she could no longer help herself.
Unaware of which of her sons had convinced Bucky to tell a bedtime story, Sarah only felt at ease. She quietly leaned on the doorframe and listened as Bucky narrated wonders about his time in Wakanda.
From the tone of his voice and the warmth oozing from Bucky's words, Sarah could tell what Wakanda meant to Bucky, and she hoped their home could be a sanctuary to him. She waited for him to finish, and she walked into the room to kiss her sons' goodnight.
Sarah and Bucky left the room, and they walked to the living room in comforting silence. Sometimes, they stole glances at each other, but they mostly remained engrossed in thoughts of the other.
Once in the living room, Sarah sat on the couch, and Bucky did not. He returned a few minutes later with mugs of hot tea.
"Is the tea helping?" Sarah asked as he sat the mug before her.
"In some ways," He responded. "I have great company each time I do turn to tea for sleep." Bucky confessed. "So I'm starting to enjoy the taste of it."
Sarah smiled and sipped from her mug. She peered at Bucky as he took the spot near her. They had started to sit impossibly close to each other after so many nights spent together, but only tonight, she noticed that his arm often brushed her.
"I'm glad I can help in my own little way," She replied. "I know it's not groundbreaking, but if it does help. I could get flavoured tea or just the same old tea tasting like medicine. We could be fancier and get a Darjeeling." She said to replace the meaningful silence and quiet her thoughts.
"I think it's the conversation that I cherished. I haven't finish a cup since we started. I take sips here and there." Bucky said with a chuckle. "I haven't spoken in a meaningful way to anyone for so long," He admitted.
"Speaking!" Sarah snorted. "Oh! You have yet to do that, Bucky." She added with amusement. "I will say you haven't listened to someone maybe. I did most of the talking."
Bucky laughed, and he could not argue with the truth. Most of the time, Sarah left him speechless or dreaming. He loved listening to her.
"I'm less interesting that you're," Bucky argued.
"Lil ole me," Sarah smiled. "There is nothing more to say about me." She added. "So the conversation might have to come from your side next time."
"That is going to ruin our nights."
Sarah frowned at his comment, and her hand covered his.
"Or make them more peaceful. We could do with some stories about Wakanda and your goats. I know I should eavesdrop," Sarah commented. "I think I have started to get more sleep since you got here," Sarah confessed. "I wish you would say the same soon."
"I could," Bucky admits. "And then sleeping wouldn't be such a bad thing." He sighed.
Sarah squeezed his hand, and she comfortingly ran her thumb on the side of his hand.
"Is sleeping a bad thing?" She gently inquired. "Because of the nightmares?"
Bucky shook his head. He searched for ways to express his mind, and it came with ease, as Sarah did not prompt him.
"No," He said. "I just slept through most of my life," Bucky lamented. "Years of endless sleep." He sighed. "The nightmares are only memories. It is the sensation to relieve those years when my body was not truly mine, and my mind was Hydra's property." He explained. "It's harder to want to sleep if you're unaware of who you will be once you wake up. James Barnes or the winter soldier." He said hesitantly. "Sleep is frightening because I might never wake up from it as myself."
"Bucky," Sarah gently took his face between his hands.
"Set the mood for a great night," Bucky lamented. “Did it I?"
His hands covered Sarah's, and he allowed himself to enjoy the comfort of her warm hands.
"You gave me something to look forward too," Sarah said with the sweetest smile.
"I did," Bucky said with uncertainty.
"Yes," Sarah insisted. "I can't wait to meet James Barnes every morning with a cup of coffee at your taste," She declared. "You have slept enough," She retakes his words. "From now on I will cheer for you every morning, and so you get a reminder that it's another day with you walking away from the ugliness. You perpetual victory over Hydra." Sarah sincerely said. "We will definitely need some fancy coffee brand." She finished with a tone, which did not permit arguments.
"I will invest in a box of coffee." Bucky yielded. "If this goes on any longer, I will have something to look forward to," He admits with a glance at Sarah. His look alone spoke volume. "Maybe I will wish to start dreaming about things...you." He breathed out after a few seconds.
Bucky's hands framed Sarah's face, and he hesitated after a glance at her smile. Was an attempt at living his fantasy worth more than their quiet routine? He did not immediately find the answer, and so Bucky went with his guts.
He carefully laid a kiss on her lips. It was nothing scandalous even from a man from his time. The act on himself was timid and laced with anxiety. Sarah giggled, and she could not help herself now. His blush and the shyness behind his eyes made her equally bashful.
The pair paused, and they stared at each other. Bucky waited for a reaction, and Sarah hoped no excuse would follow. They remained silent for another second until Bucky understood the giddy smile on Sarah's lips.
Bucky cradled her face, and he kissed Sarah. He was bolder this time. Bucky was gentle and tasted sweeter than Sarah expected. His mouth was soft, and each of his kisses created a thirst for more of that sickly sweet flavour. Therefore, she kissed him until breathless.
It was overwhelming, and yet it was never enough. Sarah's lungs scream for air, but Sarah wanted so much of him. She kissed him a little longer until it became more passionate. Sarah kissed Bucky with all her being, and he poured his needs into the kiss.
"Maybe," He said as their kiss broke. "You would…" Bucky only hoped it was not too straightforward.
"Like to kiss you more," Sarah responded with another kiss.
Sarah felt his hand on her, and its coldness did not make her shiver. She only further abandoned herself to his caress. Bucky had not used his arms for anything but violence, and now he was offering delicate caresses to the woman who he had made mistress of his mind. It dawned on him how of a home Sarah had become.
Bucky liked how with every kiss, her skin burned. With every touch, electricity ran on every inch of her skin. He should never spot touching and kissing, and so Bucky did not stop. They laid on the couch kissing like feverish teenagers.
Sarah's hands clasped Bucky’s visage. Bucky kissed her in a bruising manner with teeth sinking in lips and tongue grazing skin. Bucky kissed Sarah, and she wanted it never to end. Sarah drew away from Bucky, and she looked at him with a bright smile.
"Maybe sleep will come with more ease in my bed," She declared as she stood from the couch and extended her hand toward him.
Bucky took Sarah's hand and answered her with a kiss, and he only wanted so much of her. Sleep could wait.