[Virginia AU] to unravel a torment you must begin somewhere

[nerves_of_ice]

I need to think, he'd told Sharon, and it's true all the way down to his bones. The problem is that he's having trouble doing it. After he spends the next half hour jumping at shadows, he considers going down into the tunnels for a while, but reluctantly decides against it. There's a five-kilometer trail on the grounds that he's run a couple of times. It'll do for a test, to see if the agents are going to have either a singular or a collective fit at his being out of the compound proper. Bucky goes straight from the garage's back exit to the nearest point, strips his jacket and leaves it on the ground, then settles into an easy lope.

By the third circuit, his mind's clear enough for him to start mulling over a few things, clear enough for him to look at the events of the last day or so in a new light. No wonder he'd had something like a - he doesn't even know how to describe it, the whirlwind of shock and fear and hurt and near-panic and desperation that he's been feeling. A spiral, maybe, but in the end the term doesn't matter, it's the reason, and when he really lets himself think about it, it doesn't take a genius or a scientist to be able to pinpoint it. All three of the people he's closest to in the world, the ones who know him best, had deceived him - or, to be fair, had let him deceive himself. And as a result, all three - Sharon more than the others, but Steve and Natasha as well - had taken harm or have been placed at still-great risk of harm, harm he's desperate to defend them from somehow. When he looks at it that way, it's really no wonder why he's reacting as he is. It's also obvious to him that he can't allow it to continue.

Bucky sets his jaw in tight, grim lines, and keeps running.

Three hours later, he makes his way back inside, absently mopping the sweat from his face and neck with the discarded jacket, and goes to find Hogan. "Windows," he tells him. Whether or not he'll leave them uncovered doesn't matter, not now. "Lots of windows. Somewhere high, not too near people. Furnished however you do as standard's fine for now. Okay?"

"I've got just the one," Hogan tells him. "I'll have it ready tomorrow. That soon enough?"

"Yes," Bucky assures him. "Thanks."

He stays with Steve again that night. Things are a little strained at first, until Bucky breaks the ice and apologizes for how he's been reacting. Steve doesn't want his apology, but his best friend listens while he tries to explain, and that's more than good enough.

Later that evening, he texts Natasha to suggest they catch up soon, and offers to bring cocoa, hoping the idea'll amuse her enough for her to realize he's not angry. Not any more. He texts Alyona a picture of Steve's bike, one of the ones he'd taken hanging upside-down, just to say hi, and texts Sharon a good-night wish.

He doesn't sleep much, due to the incessant nightmares, but at least he knows the reason for them. It helps.

The coffee's already made when Steve gets up, and conversation's a lot more relaxed. He's the first to ask about getting on the training schedule, and Steve's smile lights up the room.

By 8:57 AM, Bucky's waiting in the same conference room as the day before, a mug of black coffee at hand, and a blank notepad and pen on the table in front of him.

Comments

[from_the_outside]

She's not exactly sure what had happened, but even following Wanda's instructions to the letter had left her latest attempt at a pie a burned wreck barely recognizable as pastry. She takes a picture of the sad thing and sends it to Wanda, along with a series of question marks and a plaintive question:

what went wrong???

Probably what went wrong was that she was trying to bake at all in the first place. She should just stick to her strengths, like roundhousing a goon out a window or infiltrating a third-world dictatorship. The news has moved on from discussing the succession in Wakanda, but she has it on anyway in the other room, half for company and half because Ross had sent her some information on black market vibranium that she thinks probably pertains to her next assignment.

Not that the news would mention anything of the kind, but it's always worth waiting to see if anything useful pops up.

In the meantime, she glances at the clock and sighs, then goes to her fridge to take out a bottle of wine. With any luck, Bucky will call soon, and she can talk to him for a while before she goes to bed. He'll get a kick out of her attempting a pie again, at least.

[nerves_of_ice]

The flight had gone smoothly - both flights, in fact, starting with the farmer's borrowed crop duster to the border and then taking the smuggler's jet from there. It's useful to keep up old connections, even if it's not strictly legal. Then again, it's not like he'd chartered the flight or anything - just caught a ride-along for a 'donation.'

They'd made good time. It's early enough that Sharon's probably still awake, even.

It's been a while since he's been in this building. The last time he was here it was just to drop off a postcard, he realizes, and hastily ignores the twinge at that particular memory. The security hasn't changed, so far as he can see, but he decides to be careful anyway. Bucky goes down several blocks, then up a wall and over the rooftops to Sharon's building. The maintenance door to the roof is laughably insecure. He pops the hinges from the outside and slides it back shut, then makes his way stealthily down toward her apartment, typing on his phone as he goes to avoid any possible hidden cameras.

He sends the message from right outside her door before he picks the lock.

It's me. Don't shoot.

[from_the_outside]

Her phone buzzes and she glances over at it as she fills her glass, half-expecting a reply from Wanda. Maybe that's why it takes her a second to parse the message she's actually received.

She stares at her phone in blank confusion. "It's – "

A scraping sound comes from her door, startling her back to herself. She sets the bottle down, hurriedly, and instinctively looks for her weapon before recalling the second part of the message. By the time the door opens, she's coming around the counter which separates her kitchen from her living room, her breath coming fast and shallow in her throat. "Bucky?"

[nerves_of_ice]

He slips through the door and shuts it behind him, then leans back against it and lets himself look at her, hands loose at his sides.

"Hi, baby."

[from_the_outside]

She stares at him for a long second, then pushes forward to put her arms around him, warm and solid and here, what the hell?

"Hi, yourself."

[nerves_of_ice]

His arms close around her in turn, maybe a little tighter than they should, but he takes care to make sure she can breathe.

"I missed you," he says, simple and with the barest hint of mischief. "Mind if I crash on your couch tonight?"

[from_the_outside]

She presses her face into the crook of his neck and breathes him in, deep and disbelieving, before she huffs a laugh. "You can crash here, but not on the couch."

It takes a moment before she can do it, but eventually she manages to pull away enough to look up into his face. "But what are you doing here? How, why – "

[nerves_of_ice]

"I'm not on the run," he promises, before she can go down that mental path. Bucky brushes her hair back from her cheek with his right hand and tucks a lock behind her ear.

"You're looking at the official liaison from the Avengers to the Task Force. Berlin-based, at least for now. I report to the deputy commander in the morning. Hopefully Nilsson'll have called him by then."

[from_the_outside]

"What," says Sharon, blankly. "Liaison?"

Her brain is refusing to parse any of this information. He might as well be telling her the Avengers are going to shoot him into space. "They sent you here?"

[nerves_of_ice]

"Well, I suggested it to Steve," he says, gently. "We agreed it would be a good idea for me to be out of reach of the Secretary of State. And it's not like I can't be helpful, when it comes to working together on anti-terrorist things. So if your Ross is serious about the Task Force and the Avengers working more closely together...."

He shrugs.

[from_the_outside]

"He is," she says, automatically, before any of the rest of it sinks in.

He's on assignment. Official assignment. Here in Berlin. With the Task Force. Her disbelieving smile begins to grow. "You know you're going to have to actually liaise, right?"

[nerves_of_ice]

"Yeah, I know." He sighs, as theatrically as he can manage. "And work with Agent Riley. Who's supposed to contact me once he gets here, or at least in the morning. But I'll try not to screw anything up."

[from_the_outside]

His put-upon sigh only makes her grin, bright and shining, as the truth of what's happening finally, fully, registers.

He's here. He gets to stay here. And it's felt like a million years since the last time she had him under her hands. "Probably a good idea," she tells him, and reaches up to curve her hand at his cheek. "How about a kiss hello?"

[nerves_of_ice]

Bucky's smile flashes, quick and bright. "Thought you'd never ask."

He leans in to kiss her, drawing her closer to him as he does.

[from_the_outside]

She kisses him back, then kisses him again, sweet and lingering, her fingers threading through his hair as she pushes herself against his chest. "Baby," she murmurs, when it breaks.

"I missed you so much."

[nerves_of_ice]

"I missed you too." He kisses her again. "I told you I'd find a way to come see you."

He makes a face. "Better not to have the Ross thing happen, but this part's good."

[from_the_outside]

"I can't believe you're actually here."

She cradles his face in her hands and kisses him back once more, then pulls herself away, letting her hands drop to find his as she steps back. "Come on in. Welcome to la casa de Carter."

[nerves_of_ice]

He laces the fingers of his right hand with hers and moves to walk beside her. "Nice place."

[from_the_outside]

"Thanks." She looks around at her apartment, trying to see it through his eyes, new and interesting. There's her couch and coffee table, a bookshelf with more photos than books on it and some houseplants of the hard-to-kill variety.

She tugs lightly at his hand. "I was just pouring a glass of wine. Want some?"

[nerves_of_ice]

"If you're having some," he agrees. Bucky looks across the room at the pictures with idle curiosity, but lets her lead him to the little kitchen rather than going to investigate them.

[from_the_outside]

She only lets go of his hand to open the fridge and retrieve the bottle of cold white wine, then reaches up, retrieving another glass for him before she pours. Her sad attempt at a pie – cherry again, they're in season here, sits forlorn on the countertop, utterly forgotten by her.

When she turns to give him his glass, her eyes are shining. "All I was hoping for tonight was to talk to you before bed."

[nerves_of_ice]

"It's been a busy day," he allows, and cups her hand with his for the sake of the touch before he takes the glass from her. The look on her face is everything he could have wanted.

[from_the_outside]

"I'm so happy to see you," she tells him, every word as true as anything she's ever said.

She reaches for her own glass, then threads the fingers of her free hand with his, unwilling to not be touching him. "Come on," she murmurs, and leads him into the living room, towards the little couch. "Sit down. Tell me everything."

[nerves_of_ice]

"I'm not sure how much there is to tell." He sits down beside her on the couch, shifting the glass into his other hand so that he can put his arm around her.

"Since it's all pretty new. I did have one question, though - how long do I have to wait to officially ask you out? Without compromising you?"

[from_the_outside]

She has to laugh, her grin flashing like sunlight across water as she curls against his side.

"Anytime before we might get assigned together on something," she answers. "We'll need to be able to disclose it by then. But why wait? Ross is already annoyed at me. The worst he'll do is give me another week of suspension."