[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.

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[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."

[nerves_of_ice]

"He better not." He smiles as she curls into the curve of his arm, and presses a kiss to her hair.

"In that case... Sharon, baby, would you go out with me? As many times as you want?"

[from_the_outside]

She looks up at him, a warm glow of happiness in her eyes. "You better believe I will," she tells him.

"For as long as you'll let me."

[nerves_of_ice]

He leans in to kiss her again, and smiles against her mouth when it breaks.

"So are you going to tell your boss, or do you want me to?"

[from_the_outside]

Sharon laughs and reaches her free hand up into his hair, pressing a much more firm kiss to his mouth before she answers.

"It'd probably be better coming from me, but you're going to see him before I will."

[nerves_of_ice]

"Sweetheart, whatever's best for you is what we should do," he insists, even as he kisses her again.

[from_the_outside]

"Let me think about it," she asks, and kisses him once more before pulling back and setting her glass on the coffee table before turning to grin at him, bright and brilliant.

"Stay there a second," she tells him, and stands. "I have something for you."

[nerves_of_ice]

"As long as you need," he promises, and gives her a curious look at her request.

"Okay. I won't go anywhere." He sets his glass down as she stands up, and leans back against the couch.

[from_the_outside]

"I wanted to get you something," Sharon tells him, going around the couch to rummage in a paper bag set on an end table. "For your new apartment."

She takes out a tissue-paper wrapped parcel and brings it over to him, settling on the couch as she holds it out, her eyes bright with anticipation. "I was going to mail it, but..."

The little package she hands him is a little larger than her palm, a rough circle in soft tissue paper.

[nerves_of_ice]

He takes it carefully, cradling it in his hands and studying the wrapping before he looks up at her. His small smile is half-surprised, half-shy.

"You didn't have to," Bucky says, softly. "But thank you." Very carefully, he peels the paper back, then goes still and silent as he stares wide-eyed down at the cracked glass art.

[from_the_outside]

"I know I didn't have to," she assures him. "That's what makes it a gift."

She looks from him to the art and back again, her eyes bright and delighted. She'd picked it carefully, thinking of that day in Virginia when he'd told her what he wanted to show her at the Spinnerei. This piece reflects them both, she thinks: bright gold and gleaming gunmetal. "Do you like it?"

[nerves_of_ice]

"It's beautiful," he whispers, shaken in a way he doesn't have words to explain. Bucky brushes his fingers lightly over the surface, tracing the patterns of gold and steel in the glass.

"Sharon, I--" He shakes his head, unable to articulate it. "Thank you."

[from_the_outside]

She reaches for her glass of wine and curls her legs up onto the couch, watching him, quietly content. "You're welcome, sweetheart," she murmurs.

She hopes it helps him see how she sees him all the time: shattered, but still beautiful. Still whole.

[nerves_of_ice]

He finally manages to look away from it and back up at her with a rueful smile.

"Of course I'm going to have to ask you to hang on to it for me," he admits. "I haven't figured out where I'm going to settle while I'm here yet. There's still a chance Ross'll want to slam me in a cell, after all."

[from_the_outside]

"And miss his chance to work with the Avengers? Not on your life."

She smiles back at him and lifts her wine for a sip. "But I'll hold onto it as long as you need."

[nerves_of_ice]

He draws his thumb absently back and forth over the surface of the art.

"I didn't think you remembered this," he murmurs.

[from_the_outside]

"Of course I did."

Her voice is very soft. "I remember everything you told me you had planned for that night."

[nerves_of_ice]

“The place is probably still there,” he says, just as softly. “If you’d want to go, that is.”