[oom] all those times we looked up at the sky

[from_the_outside]

Karli's on the move; she'll strike soon. Bucky and Sam have been in long, tense conversations with each other and with Torres, and she herself has been keeping an obsessive eye on the tracker blip that is Batroc.

It's a lot. The air in the apartment is tense. But she still has to laugh at the sight that greets her when she walks into the living room: Bucky crouched down, his phone out as he takes a photo of Alpine, who is lounging in lazy grandeur, soaking up a puddle of sunshine.

"That'll be a good one," she approves. "Baby, I've been wondering – what happened to your nice camera? You didn't leave it in Wakanda, did you?"

Comments

[nerves_of_ice]

Light glints off the metal in her fingers, and Bucky freezes, staring at it, as all color drains from his face.

"White Wolf," he hears T'Challa say, in the depths of his memory. He can almost smell the green growing scent of the grass and trees there in Wakanda, can see sunlight glinting from the lake and T'Challa's collar and something in his hand as he continues, "I am sorry--"

He doesn't move, nor does he speak. He can't.

[from_the_outside]

Sharon sets the camera carefully down on the bed, her fingers curling back around the necklace, then comes slowly towards him. "Baby?"

She'd taken it off on the Quinjet. Hadn't wanted to lose it, or for it to get broken. She'd left it with Fury. To keep it safe.

Only now does she realize what he must have done with it. "Bucky," she murmurs, as she comes close enough to look up into his face. "It's okay."

[nerves_of_ice]

He shakes his head, and finally manages to look up from her now-closed hand and at her expression.

"He sent it with the news," he whispers. "As proof."

[from_the_outside]

She uncurls her fingers, her hand held up between them, and looks down at the necklace, blackened and broken. She imagines him holding it like this, alone in the hut by the lake, thinks of him gently tucking it away into a pocket of the camera case, unable to bear looking at it, unable to get rid of it.

"I was afraid I'd lose it," she whispers. "Or that it would break. I left it in the Quinjet."

[nerves_of_ice]

Gently, very gently, he cups his hands beneath hers, as if to catch the necklace in case it were to fall. His fingers are trembling.

[from_the_outside]

"I'm sorry."

Her voice is barely a whisper. She drags her glance away from the necklace and up to his face. "I'm so sorry, Bucky."

[nerves_of_ice]

"Not your fault." Low but clear. "You didn't know what he'd do."

[from_the_outside]

She shakes her head and looks back down, lifting her free hand to lightly trace over the metal. "And it was so pretty, too," she murmurs, her voice thick.

"I loved this necklace."

[nerves_of_ice]

He leaves his left hand cupped under hers and raises his right to touch her cheek.

"Remember the night I gave it to you?" he asks, softly.

[from_the_outside]

She smiles, very slightly. "How could I forget?"

Her lashes are wet. When she looks up, they fracture the light in her vision. "You lit up the whole den. It looked so beautiful. Like we were surrounded by stars."

[nerves_of_ice]

"I wanted to give you the stars." Gently, he wipes a tear away from beneath her eye. "I still do."

[from_the_outside]

She laughs, watery, and turns her face into his touch. "We watched that game," she remembers. "And I was so happy. You made me so happy."

Gently, she touches the necklace with the pad of her thumb. "You still do."

[nerves_of_ice]

"My angel," he whispers, and leans in to kiss her.

"We can get it fixed. If you want."

[from_the_outside]

She nods and kisses him back, then sniffs and swipes at her eyes.

"Will that be okay?" she asks, softly. "Will you be okay seeing it again?"

[nerves_of_ice]

"With you here and wearing it? Yes," he assures her.

[from_the_outside]

She smiles at that, sweet as springtime.

"Okay," she murmurs. "Let's get it fixed. I've missed it."

[nerves_of_ice]

"We'll find a jeweler tomorrow," Bucky promises.

[from_the_outside]

She curls her fingers around the necklace and presses her closed hand to her heart, then leans forward to put her head on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry Fury used it like that," she murmurs. "I'm sorry you thought you lost me for so long."

[nerves_of_ice]

He puts both arms around her and holds her close.

"Not your fault," he repeats. "Fury's part in it, I mean. I wish you'd called me after - after everyone came back, but I think I understand why you didn't."

[from_the_outside]

She shakes her head, but only puts her arms around his waist and holds onto him, her fingers still carefully closed around the necklace.

[nerves_of_ice]

Bucky looks down at her.

"What do you mean, no?"

[from_the_outside]

"Not 'no,'" she murmurs. "But I couldn't call."

She'd been so angry, so hurt; felt so betrayed and alone. She'd lost herself in Madripoor, and then, when everyone else was saved, still no one came for her. Not even him. "We already talked about it," she says, weary. "We don't need to do it again."

[nerves_of_ice]

He runs one hand over her hair and down her back, then does it again, in long, slow, soothing strokes.

"Okay," he says, softly.

[from_the_outside]

The guilt and self-loathing is crushing and familiar. She should have called. She should never have believed he could abandon her. She should have known Fury was up to something. Should have, could have. Six months, gone. Like the five years beforehand. Six months they could have had together. Six months they should have had. When he didn't need to be alone, and neither did she.

She shakes her head again and exhales a long, slow breath, trying to relax under the gentle strokes of his hand.

[nerves_of_ice]

Bucky presses a kiss to her hair and keeps stroking her back.

"You're here now," he says, softly. "You're home."