[ 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."

Comments

[nerves_of_ice]

"What you have is probably all that's left. Except for whatever of Steve's stuff is in the museum."

He draws her a little more closely against his side without even thinking about it.

[from_the_outside]

"Right."

He'd mentioned that, but it had gotten lost in the confusion shortly thereafter. "You went and saw the exhibit."

[nerves_of_ice]

He nods, the small movement sending a couple of locks of his hair drifting over hers. "Before I went to see Peggy. Yes."

[from_the_outside]

"That must have been pretty weird," she murmurs, and tips her head to look up at him, puffs of her breath warm against his throat and jaw. "Steve's gone a couple of times, too."

[nerves_of_ice]

A faint shiver runs through him as he nods again before looking back down at her.

"There was so much I didn't know. Didn't remember." He swallows. "It was like - it was like reading about someone else."

[from_the_outside]

"Even Steve kind of feels that way, and he remembers it all," she tells him.

The museum really isn't happy that he'd taken back the uniform, but considering it was his fight with the Winter Soldier that wrecked it, she decides against bringing that up here and now. "Maybe some if it will jog some memories."

[nerves_of_ice]

“It’s why I went to see Peggy.” He sighs, slow and deep.

“I don’t know how to explain. My memory, I mean.”

[from_the_outside]

She watches him, her head on his shoulder, and runs her hand over his back and side in an attempt to soothe.

"It seems like you're getting bits and pieces."

[nerves_of_ice]

He nods, then shakes his head. He is, but that’s not quite right, he realizes. “It’s all there. Or I think it is. Somewhere.”

There’s misery in his voice as he looks down at her. “I remember everything. Or will. Eventually.”

And if that isn’t a nightmare all by itself he doesn’t know what is. Bucky makes himself continue rather than dwell on that. “But it… it’s like I dropped a puzzle on the floor. Or a mirror, with all the pieces picked up and shoved back into my head without any… nothing’s connected. I can’t - I can’t find things in there. It’s just… bits and pieces.”

[from_the_outside]

"Hey." She lifts her head to look at him, gripping his shirt to give him a little shake. "If it's there, then you'll be able to find it eventually. Don't push it too hard."

She gives him a small smile. "It's only been a few days."

[nerves_of_ice]

A lot’s happened in that few days. He knows it, she knows it. He doesn’t point it out, deliberately avoiding thinking about it for the moment.

He lets out another slow breath, and nods again.

[from_the_outside]

She leans forward to press her forehead against his temple. "We'll help you put the puzzle back together," she murmurs. "As much as we can."

[nerves_of_ice]

He tilts his head slightly, into her touch, and selfishly lets himself drown in her for a moment before he whispers,

"Don't let me hurt you again."

[from_the_outside]

There's no way to respond to that which wouldn't either be a lie or make him feel guilty. Sharon elects to not say anything at all, instead putting her arms back around his neck to hold him close.

[nerves_of_ice]

The faintest whir of metal shifting floats on the air as he braces his left hand flat against the ground and turns just slightly further into her embrace, curving his right hand against her side just above her hip.

[from_the_outside]

He puts his arm around her and draws her in, and she makes a small sound before burying her face in his shoulder and neck. "Bucky."

[nerves_of_ice]

"I'm here," he murmurs, as gently as he can. He lowers his face to her hair and lets himself just breathe her in for a moment.

"I'm here."

[from_the_outside]

"I'm sorry," she murmurs. "I shouldn't – I don't want to push you. But I just want to be close to you."

[nerves_of_ice]

"Don't be. You're not," he reassures her. "Whatever you want."

[from_the_outside]

She isn't sure whatever she wants is actually attainable. She wants to hold him and be held in return, to kiss him, to fall asleep in his arms the way she was denied for so long.

But he's right, too, that he's no longer that man. And she can't expect him to feel the way he once did. Or herself, for that matter. "This is nice."

[nerves_of_ice]

"Yes." Soft, but certain, as his breath stirs her hair. He holds her close and holds himself still, determined to do nothing that might startle or alarm her.

She doesn't want to push him, she'd said. He can't imagine how she would, really, even as flickers of memory stir - the two of them seated together under another tree, somewhere far from here, teasing and laughter.

[from_the_outside]

She curves a hand at the back of his head, surprised all over again not to feel his shorter hair beneath his fingers.

"You watched over me the other night, didn't you?" she says, low. "At my apartment. Until I left."

[nerves_of_ice]

He nods, very slightly, causing his hair to move over her hand. "I - it was important. That you be safe."

Bucky hesitates, trying to figure out how to ask. "The redheaded woman. Natasha. She's a friend of yours?"

[from_the_outside]

"A good friend," she confirms.

Part of her wishes Nat were here. This is her life and her past, too.

[nerves_of_ice]

"Okay. Good." Very, very softly. "It was in the brief, but I ... wasn't sure."