[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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[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.”

[from_the_outside]

She leans her elbow on the back of the couch and sets her head against her hand, smiling at him, her eyes warm.

"I'd like that," she promises him. "I'd like it a lot."

[nerves_of_ice]

“Then I’ll take you sometime.” He smiles back, warm and sweet.

[from_the_outside]

She feels so full and happy in this moment, she thinks she must be glowing with it. "Then it's a date," she promises, and leans forward to kiss him, gentle.

[nerves_of_ice]

He holds the artwork carefully in his left hand as he curves his right around the back of her neck, drawing her in as he returns the kiss.

[from_the_outside]

"Baby," she murmurs, letting herself fall into his taste, his touch. He's here, and she can hardly believe it, but if it's a dream, she's going to make the most of it. "Bucky."

[nerves_of_ice]

“Sharon,” he whispers in answer, as he tangles his fingers in her hair and brushes his thumb over her nape. “Sweetheart.”

[from_the_outside]

She missed him so much. It’s been like missing a chunk of herself, leaving her feeling empty and lonely.

Sharon kisses him once more, then nudges her forehead against his and just breathes for a moment. “Are you tired?” she asks, finally. “You must have been traveling a lot today.”

[nerves_of_ice]

“Not that tired,” he promises, holding still under her touch, not wanting to miss an instant of it. “I wasn’t flying the second plane.”

[from_the_outside]

"The second plane, huh?"

She reaches up to run her fingers through his hair from his forehead to crown, smiling. "Should I ask how you managed to get here right under the Secretary's nose?"

[nerves_of_ice]

He tips his head into her fingers. “If you want,” he says, mildly. “I figured he’d be watching the regional airports and tracking for any sign of a Quinjet, so I went a different way.”

[from_the_outside]

"Smart."

She tugs lightly on a lock of his hair. "Are you hungry? Have you eaten?"

[nerves_of_ice]

“I try to be.” Dry as dust, followed by a quick flash of a smile at her question.

“You don’t need to go to any trouble for me, baby.”

[from_the_outside]

"So you haven't eaten," she says, cannily. "You know who wouldn't let me get away with that? You."

She leans forward to kiss him once more, then pushes back and takes her glass of wine back toward the kitchen, trying to think of the food she has available.

The not-a-pie is not an option. But she's pretty sure she has more cherries, and some bread and good cheese.

[nerves_of_ice]

He leaves his wine on the table and follows her to the kitchen. The - is that pastry? - on the counter gets a startled second look.

“Um, baby, did you bake something?”

[from_the_outside]

"No," she says. The annoyance in her voice is directed at the failed pie, not him. "I tried to bake something. I don't know why it didn't work."

She opens the fridge door and retrieves a wedge of hard cheese and another of soft, then sets them on the counter. "I did just what Wanda said."

[nerves_of_ice]

He wanders over and pokes cautiously at the edge of it, then shrugs. “No idea. Wanda’s the magic one, not me.”

[from_the_outside]

"I texted her, but she hasn't responded yet."

She gives the pie a scathing glance; she hates being bad at things. And this is something simple, something easy. More than that, it's something he'd like, and she just can't manage to get her hands around it.

It's annoying. It feels like failure. She reaches for a basket of fruit and pulls out a few apricots, then runs them under the water in the sink for a moment before drying them off and adding them to a plate with the cheese.

[nerves_of_ice]

“Hey.” He comes up behind her and puts his arms around her waist. “You’ll figure it out. I know you will,” he murmurs into her hair.

[from_the_outside]

She slows down and leans slightly back against him, but she's still frustrated.

"Maybe," she mutters, darkly. "I've had so much free time on my hands lately, I figured I may as well give it a shot."