TITLE: Dancing in the Dark WORD COUNT: 6110 WARNINGS: THIS IS AN AU; angst, emotional crap, sexual content, catch up with part 9 before this one to avoid spoilers, the big reveal (oh, make that two reveals)
You lifted your eyes from the test in your hand and looked at Bucky. He blinked, eyebrows raising as he waited for you to speak. You swallowed, looking back down at the test.
TITLE: Yes or No WORD COUNT: 2884 WARNINGS: THIS IS AN AU; angst, emotional, a glimpse into the reader’s backstory, read part 8 before you dive into this to avoid spoilers
“Okay. So we’ve got … a lot to choose from here. Geez. Okay. This one … this one does the lines. One line for no, two for yes. This one … this one does a digital readout. Got my vote. Oh, and this one does a little happy face.” “How are you so calm right now?!”
Bucky turned to you and crossed his arms, and you glanced around the drugstore you were currently in. You put your thumbnail back into your mouth, gnawing your nail more than you already had. Bucky blinked at you, then unlaced his arms, laying his hands on your shoulders and turned you to face him.
“I have to be calm, because you’re clearly freaking out enough for the both of us right now.”
You sighed as you flipped through papers on your desk, rolling your shoulders to try and abate the itchiness that had set in while your sunburn began to peel. You set the papers aside and took in a deep breath, hanging your head while you closed your eyes.
You grabbed your phone when it jingled, not opening your eyes until you had the phone in your hands under the desk. A picture appeared, of a drawing of a few stick figures, a square house, green grass, a yellow sun in the corner. One of the stick figures had black hair, another yellow, two brown, and one pink . You couldn’t help but smile, sliding your finger across the screen when your mom called.
“Hey, Mama.” “What do you think about our little Picasso? I mean, I know it’s not abstract, but…”
You laughed.
“It’s excellent. Who’s the one with pink hair, though?”
Your mom sighed.
“That’s Abby. Apparently, she’s ‘always’ wanted to have pink hair. Who knew?”
You laughed, shaking your head.
“She’s the best.” “You should have seen the look on your dad’s face when she said that. I’m dying to find some wash-out dye or something and have him see her for real.”
You laughed again.
“Mom, that’s terrible.” “Yeah, well. He deserves it, after all the crap he’s put me through over the years.”
You shook your head. You looked at the stacks of papers on your desk and closed your eyes. After a moment, your mom spoke.
“Okay. I’ve got blankets and pillows for the ride. Clint’s driving. Buck, you and Y/N were in charge of snacks. Did you deliver?”
You held up a shopping bag filled with individual bags of chips, sunflower seeds, Pop-Tarts, M&Ms, and sour straws. Natasha clapped her hands, then turned back to the group.
“Stevie, you were in charge of tunes. We good?”
Steve passed over a CD and Natasha raised an eyebrow.
“Seriously?” “It’s this or the novel invention known as a car radio.” “No one listens to CDs anymore.” “Then plug in your phone.” “But—“ “Nat.”
She glanced to you and Bucky, and the two of you shook your heads. She sighed, watching as Steve slid sunglasses onto his nose and glanced away, then looked back to you. You shrugged your shoulders and Natasha huffed out a breath.
“Okay, we’re all set. Load up and let’s get the hell out of here.”
You woke up when it was still dark in your bedroom. You sat up in the bed, pulling your knees up, closing your eyes again when your head throbbed with every movement. It wasn’t as bad as when you’d fallen asleep, but it was still painful. You slowly crawled out of bed, holding a hand to your temple as you made your way to the kitchen, for a glass of water and some kind of medicine to try and alleviate the pain in your head.
You wrinkled your nose when you saw the door to your balcony cracked slightly, the acrid smell of tobacco slipping through the crack. You walked over, blinking when you saw him leaning on the railing, a lit cigarette between his fingers.
“Bucky?”
He glanced over his shoulder, giving you a small smile.
“Hey. How you feeling?”
You shook your head, closing your eyes and wincing at the pain that movement caused. Bucky motioned to you when you opened your eyes again.
“I got some medicine for you. I didn’t know what you had or where to find it, so I went to the store and bought some.” “And some smokes?”
“Oh my god, I can’t believe you. We’re already back to this?”
While you spoke, Bucky laid his hands on the counter, hanging his head and huffing out a breath. He lifted his head and met your eyes, narrowing his own as he spoke.
“Because everything’s my fault, right?” “I didn’t say that. Don’t put words in my mouth.” “Why don’t you just go ahead and tell me what I can and can’t do?”
Your mouth fell open, and you shook your head.
“You’re such a bastard.”
Bucky let out a cold, bitter laugh.
“No kidding. But sweetheart, you’re not exactly a walk in the park.” “Guess I learned from the best.” “No arguments there.”
Your eyes were like fire when they met his.
“You see? I knew this was a bad idea. We’re no good for each other.”
Bucky nodded.
“At least we agree on something.”
You rolled your eyes, gathering your purse and walking towards the door. Bucky turned his back to you, crossing his arms over his wide chest, closing his eyes as the jolting boom of guns firing filled his ears.
Bucky walked out of the bedroom, squinting at the sunlight pouring through the windows of the rooms he walked by on his way to the kitchen. He straightened the boxers he’d tugged on and lifted a hand to scratch at his bare chest. He closed his eyes at the sudden brightness of the kitchen, slapping a hand on the wall to turn the light off.
Wait. Why was the light on?
He peeked out of one eye, yawning before he fully opened both his eyes.
“Steve?”
Steve nodded in greeting, shoveling another spoonful of cereal into his mouth. Bucky shook his head.
“What the fuck are you doing here this early?”
Steve smiled as he chewed.
“It’s after ten, Buck.” “It’s a Saturday. Anything in double digits is early on a fucking Saturday.”
Steve shook his head, eating another spoonful as Bucky gave a powerful yawn. Steve motioned towards the coffee pot and Bucky whimpered as he walked there, pouring himself a cup. After a few deep gulps, Bucky lifted his head.
“So … what are you doing here again?”
Steve sighed, gently dinging his spoon against the side of his bowl.
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