[ WWII AU ] a ghost story

[from_the_outside]

It's been almost two years since she's been home, and little by little, the grief has gotten easier to live with.

It hasn't gone away. But she's able to focus on her job, watch movies, chat with friends, sleep most nights. She still dreams about him, but the dreams are tinged with wistful longing and only sometimes does she wake up with tears on her cheeks. She can't have his picture out in this apartment, Kate's apartment, but it's safe in the mountain house, along with his last letter to her, and she has a scan on her phone to look at when the long day is over and she's in bed, the stars from the lamp he'd given her filling her dark room.

Steve has helped, more than she could ever explain, and she hopes she's helped him in return. Aside from a few deeply classified missions here and there, they haven't worked together all that much, but she still sees him almost every day. In the halls, she's undercover as his mild-mannered neighbor, Kate, but in her secure apartment they can talk over anything, everything.

And it works. Every day is a little easier. They lean on each other when they need to, and they spend hours remembering and reminiscing about Bucky, talking shop, chatting about how Steve's fitting into the future. It's nice. She still misses Bucky, an ache that never really goes away, but they can both breathe through it, work through it, live through it.

She's on her way up from the basement laundry machines when she hears a familiar step in the hall, and has to smile to herself – first her own, then Kate's sweeter, more open one. "Hey, neighbor."

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[nerves_of_ice]

"It's..." He trails off into silence, unable to find the right words at first.

"No," he says, finally. "I know you will. But when it doesn't work, when it's not enough... I want you to know it's okay to stop."

[from_the_outside]

"It wouldn't be okay," she says, without room for argument. "But we wouldn't stop even if it were."

[nerves_of_ice]

He draws a ragged breath, then another. He doesn't understand how she can be so sure, so determined. Why she won't even entertain the idea that he's an acceptable loss.

Nor does he understand why what she says makes him want to weep. A shudder runs through him as he fights for self-control.

[from_the_outside]

"Bucky," she murmurs, and covers their linked hands with her other palm. "You're right. Part of it is because that's who we are. Steve, especially. But it's also because we love you."

[nerves_of_ice]

Another shudder runs through him, then another, each harder than the last. Other than that, he doesn't move; fights not to move, not to collapse, not to - not to allow himself to appear erratic, to appear unstable--

"They took everything," he whispers, barely audible. "And now - now I can't, I can't--"

[from_the_outside]

She's shifting before she realizes it, letting go of his hand and coming onto her knees so she can reach her arms around him, drawing him in. "Come here," she murmurs. "We'll help you get it back, Bucky. As much as we can. As much as you can. I promise."

[nerves_of_ice]

He flinches as her arms go around him, instinctive in his attempt to keep her from touching the metal of his left arm which he'd been trying so hard to keep from her since - since waking up, since Steve had woken him up - only for the very flinch to bring him more deeply into her embrace.

The low moan that escapes him is not unlike the sound of a wounded animal in pain. His right arm goes around her waist, and he lowers his face to her shoulder to hide as he tries desperately to get control of himself.

[from_the_outside]

"Bucky." Her voice is a soft murmur, and she holds him closer as he pushes his face to her shoulder, as he holds onto her like he's clinging for dear life. Beneath the thing material of his shirt, she can feel the ridges and bumps where his metal arm was connected to his shoulder, and she wonders, not for the first time, how much it must hurt. How heavy it is. Whether he can feel anything through it.

Her other hand comes up to curve palm and fingers against his hair, cradling his head against her own body.

[nerves_of_ice]

Her hand cups his head, and the feel of her fingers in his hair sends a confused bolt of pure, overwhelming sensation through him.

He gasps, and his arm tightens around her.

[from_the_outside]

He doesn't push her away; instead, he clutches her closer. She shoves ruthlessly down on the faint thread of panic that is the memory of being attacked by the Winter Soldier and lets him cling to her, lets him pull her closer.

Very gently, she strokes her hand over his hair.

[nerves_of_ice]

As close as she is to him now, it's impossible to miss the way his body shivers and the way his breath jerks in his chest at her touch.

Other than that, he doesn't move, holding himself as still as he can with the last vestiges of rigid control.

[from_the_outside]

The way he trembles, the way his breath catches, all of it only makes her hold him more closely. Sharon sets her own cheek against his hair, pressing herself against him.

"I'm here," she murmurs. "You have me back, too."

[nerves_of_ice]

"Sharon." Her name on his lips is an aching, breathless cry. He couldn't pull away from her gentle hold now to save his life.

"Please." He's not even sure what he's pleading for. "Please."

[from_the_outside]

As much as he doesn't want to hurt her, he's going to shatter her heart all over again, as easily as if it were made of glass and not the harder stuff she's relied on all these years as an agent.

She doesn't know what he's asking for, except that it might be for her to keep holding onto him. "I'm here," she murmurs, again, and shifts closer, as close as she can, her belly and chest pressed against his side. "Hold onto me, Bucky. Just hold on."

[nerves_of_ice]

Her soft words are compassion and comfort, command and permission at once. He shudders again and turns his head into her shoulder, drawing in her scent, his breath warm against the skin at the curve of her throat.

[from_the_outside]

It's her turn to shiver, to swallow a tiny noise that threatens to crawl up her chest. It's that sensation, one she hasn't felt since the morning before that doomed mission: him here in her arms, his breath warm against her skin. Her eyes fall closed without any conscious effort from her mind, and she threads her fingers carefully through the strands of his hair.

[nerves_of_ice]

She shivers against him and he freezes, certain that he's done something wrong, scared or alarmed her somehow, only for the breath to rush out of him again all at once as she runs her fingers through his hair.

[from_the_outside]

He's lost and confused but that doesn't change how she feels when he breathes out in a puff of warmth against her throat, against the spot he used to kiss and tease and lavish attention on. She trembles again, harder, and can't keep herself from turning to press a kiss to his hair.

"There you go," she murmurs, just to say something comforting.

[nerves_of_ice]

She shivers again, but her words are soft and the press of her lips gentle. Bucky tips his head back, searching her face in the starlight, uncertain of what he'll find.

[from_the_outside]

She lifts her head as he moves his, and smiles at him. "I could get used to the long hair," she says, gently teasing.

"How do you feel?"

[nerves_of_ice]

"If you like it," he starts, and trails off there, not sure where to go.

Nor does he know how to answer her question. He struggles with it visibly for a few seconds. "I ... it's. Been. I don't -- it's a lot," he settles on, finally. "Not - not bad. Good."

[from_the_outside]

"It definitely is a lot. For all of us." She reaches to tuck a wayward lock of his hair off of his temple, fingers gentle. "I don't want to overwhelm you."

Maybe it would be best to just sit and look at the stars for a while, until he's ready to go back in. "Are you tired at all?"

[nerves_of_ice]

"You aren't. You haven't," he tries to reassure her, only to give the smallest shrug of his right shoulder in response to her question.

"I don't need much sleep."

[from_the_outside]

"But you still need some."

So does she, but she can take a nap tomorrow during the day, if she has to. Somehow she doubts that's something he's likely to do. "Sit with me a little longer before we go back inside? And then, would you try to sleep a little, for me and Steve?"

[nerves_of_ice]

"As long as you want." It's soft, but certain - more certain by far than the way his glance slips to the side at her second request. "I'll try."