Work Text:
There were a lot of things James hated, but the cold was definitely at the top of his list.
It brought him back to 1945 when he had laid in that icy ravine along the Danube River for days on end, bloody and broken with nothing but the Super Soldier Serum keeping him alive. On his worst days, he could still hear the howling winds roaring in his ears, and feel the snow weighing heavily on his chest making it impossible to take in a full breath of air.
It brought him back to Siberia where the Winter Soldier was created, locked away in the heart of a frigid mountain where no one could hear his cries as he was relentlessly tortured and molded into the fist of Hydra.
James Buchanan Barnes had died in that cold and unforgiving concrete hell, leaving him with nothing but a shell of a man who was made up of fractured and missing pieces.
And now as he sat on the creaky snow-covered steps of his home, looking out at the sleeping town adorned with glowing lights in red and green he couldn't help feeling like on this night he had one too many pieces missing.
He didn't know what he had set him off this time, he never really did. Maybe it was the way the wind howled or the way the train roared in the distance. He supposed it didn't matter because it was the same old wound that lived where his heart should be, that ached and bleed at a moment's notice, and there was no amount of super soldier serum that could heal it.
Looking out across the yard he found that staring back at him was the snowman you had all but begged him to build just days ago. He remembered racing around the yard trying to see who could build the largest snowball, and laughing when you sent clumps of snow his way in an effort to slow him down.
The cold hadn't bothered him then, and he found himself wondering where the hell that man went because he wasn't here now as he struggled to stop his heart from hammering in his chest.
He felt disoriented, stuck between two worlds with no sure place to get his footing.
Snow flurries danced across his vision and clung to his skin, the cold penetrated his coat and burrowed down into his bones.
Despite this he remained unmoving, letting the snow fall around him, watching as the steam left his mouth in fast puffs before dissipating into nothing. He watched with envious eyes, wishing that just like the steam, every tortured, rotten, and ugly part of him would float away too.
Maybe then it wouldn't be so hard to hold onto the few parts of him that were good. Maybe it would be easier to be the man you deserved. A man who wouldn't leave you in an empty bed at night because his mind was stuck in the past.
Despite his efforts, he was there now, back to the day that changed everything. He could feel the phantom sensations of the train rumbling under his boots and the glacial wind biting at his face as he fought tooth and nail against Hydra.
He remembered the weight of Steve's shield and the feeling of invincibility it had brought him. For that brief second, he stood in Steve's shoes and got a taste of what it could have been like to be the hero. He didn't get to enjoy that feeling for long before he was falling for what felt like miles.
Steve's voice carried along the wind, screaming for him and James was sure it would be the last thing he would ever hear, but the universe had other plans for him. Dark, and cruel plans that would make him a thing of nightmares.
"James, can you hear me?" Your voice called to him and his heart nearly stalled in his chest.
He could see you there, transported into his memory, bearing witness to Hydra's brutality and he felt saliva pulling in the back of his throat. It was wrong, it was all wrong. Nothing had been able to clear his mind so quickly. He refused to mix your image with the horrors that lived in his mind, it was a line he wasn't willing to cross.
The haze cleared and he was back in the present. He could feel your soft hands cupping his face, your thumbs rubbing gently across his cheeks, bringing warmth back to his frigid skin.
He blinked slowly.
"Yes… I'm here. I'm with you," He rasped.
He took you in, your frosted scarlet cheeks, your loving eyes that were framed by snow-dusted lashes, your slept-in hair that he knew smelled like honeysuckle, and your reindeer pajamas that were too thin to protect you from the chilled air.
You were right there, everything he could ever ask for, and yet he couldn't bear to look at you for long.
He dropped his head and closed his eyes, shame burning hot in his gut.
"You should go back inside doll, you'll catch a cold." He pleaded with a weak voice.
Knowing you as well as he did, he should have known that his plea would fall on deaf ears. Instead, the stubborn woman he loved crawled into his lap, wedging yourself onto his rigid form.
"I'm not going anywhere without you," You whispered, nuzzling into the crook of his neck, your warm breath dancing across his skin, sending shivers down his spine.
He sighed deeply, knowing it was a losing battle, and gave into the feel of you, wrapping himself around you like a shield. You were everything and everywhere. He took comfort in the weight of you, the soft sound of your heart thumping gently in your chest, the feeling of your hair tickling his nose.
He couldn't help but kiss the top of your head and take a deep breath. He found that it wasn't as hard to pull air into his lungs and the weight on his chest had lifted. He rocked you gently in his arms as the panic slowly drained from him.
Right now, the past didn't matter. The memories that plagued him didn't seem so close and he didn't feel so broken.
"You're the strongest man I've ever met, you know that, James?" Your sweet voice broke the silence and you lifted your gaze to meet his, not allowing him to look away this time and he didn't think he could bring himself to look away again if he tried. He was lost in the warm brown of your eyes and in the way you looked at him with something he had only recently learned to be love.
He still couldn't wrap his head around it, the fact that something like love was a feeling held for him, that someone as perfect as you could feel that way for someone as imperfect as him. It defied everything he knew.
"I think you've spent too much time in this small-town doll, and I'm afraid I can't ever let you leave because you might start to think otherwise," He teased, brushing his nose against yours.
You rolled those gorgeous eyes of yours and scoffed, slapping him lightly on the chest.
"You'll believe me one of these days Barnes." You stated, so confident and sure.
His chest rumbled in amusement. He didn't dare let his mind ponder on what your statement suggested, the future he could have with you, even if it made his heart warm because long ago he had learned only to expect the worst.
Instead, he took note of your lips that had taken on a blue tinge and the way your body had started to shake against him. Damned woman, he thought. He knew you would sit out here all night with him and freeze to death if he let you, so he stood, gathering you into his arms, and turned, heading inside.
"Let's get you warmed up, sweetheart," He planted a kiss on your cheek and hurried to the door.
When the door swung open he immediately noticed that the house was not how he had left it when he snuck out earlier in the night.
The fireplace was lit and in front of it was a makeshift bed on the ground made up of piles of blankets and pillows big enough for the both of them and Alpine, who had already made herself comfortable, curled up into a ball closest to the warmth of the fire.
Christmas music that reminded him of the better days, of his mother and sister, played gently on the record player. Two cups of hot cocoa sat steaming on the center table filling the room with its sweet scent.
He couldn't do anything but stand there for a minute and take it all in.
"I figured you wouldn't want to sleep in the bed tonight. I tried to make it as comfortable as I could. What do you think?" You asked, still suspended in his arms and at this point, he wasn't sure he ever wanted to put you down.
He took in a deep breath and did his best to blink away the tears that were threatening to spill over onto his face.
"You know I love you right? More than anything?" He croaked, voice shaking and he found himself wondering, as he so often did, what the hell he could have ever done to deserve a woman like you.
You giggled, giving him a big squeeze around his chest, and in that moment, you were the glue holding everything he was together.
"You only remind me about a hundred times a day." You teased.
He finally made his way into the room, stepped onto the bed of blankets, and lowered you gently down onto them.
He crawled on top of you, pressing kisses down the hollow of your throat earning a breathy sigh from you.
"Hm, only a hundred? I think I can do better than that," He murmured against your skin.
He made it his mission to do right by you. To give you every ounce of good he could muster, and he hoped and prayed every day that it was enough - that he was enough.
Your fingers ran through his long hair and tugged him up gently by his roots. The glow of the fire illuminated your face, and his heart skipped a beat.
"And you James, you know that I love you? All of you? Unconditionally?" You smiled at him, eyes searching his.
He couldn't help but wince at the notion, and there was no doubt that you noticed. There was so much bad within him, so much that he didn't want you to ever see. Maybe one day he could get there, but today wasn't that day.
"I… I'm learning to come to terms with that. You're going to have to be patient with me sweetheart, there is a lot going on up here, but I'm fighting every day." He motioned to his head, where all of his tangled thoughts lived.
And you smiled with understanding like his answer was satisfactory, and leaned up to give him a kiss on the forehead. He closed his eyes and savored the feeling.
And the night lived on, the music swelled, the mugs sat empty, and the fire was now a gentle blaze. The wind still howled outside, but James found that he didn't care. Not when he had you curled up against his chest, with your hand placed protectively over his heart, right over the place where his wound lived. He found that at this moment it no longer ached and the bleeding seemed to stop.
That's what your love did to him, and as he laid there awake while the rest of the town slept he entertained the thought that for a second, he was deserving of it.