[oom] I'm right here beside you

[from_the_outside]

 Sleep is a joke.

It's not just the intel that she stays up sifting through, blue light straining her eyes; it's not just the coffee she drinks, trying to keep her brain sharp and her thoughts on track. 

It's time.

Minutes that slip away, that she can't get back. Hours that tick ponderously past. She lies alone in her bed and can't close her eyes because if she does, if she sleeps, it's another night gone, another night closer to the day Bucky goes back under and –

So she stays up and works. 

It means that when she waits for him in the morning to come find her before they meet with T'Challa and the others, her skin is pale and translucent and she has that sick feeling of an all-nighter, fatigue poisons running rampant through her bloodstream – but she has a list of observations from her analysis, and two mugs of coffee kept warm on the credenza: one pale with milk and sugar, the other black and as strong as her little coffee maker could handle.

Comments

[nerves_of_ice]

He makes a face at that. "No mask's that good. No, I'm afraid what you see's what you get here."

[from_the_outside]

"You say that like I might in any way be disappointed by what I'm getting," she laughs, pushing lightly at his shoulder with the hand holding her wine.

"Now you're just fishing for compliments."

[nerves_of_ice]

"You could be." Should be, perhaps, but that's an argument he's learning not to try. Instead, he moves his hand from behind her back in order to catch her wrist before the cup of wine can splash over him, and grins at her. "Careful there."

[from_the_outside]

"No, I couldn't."

Zero chance. Zip. Zilch. Nada. Even before she felt – this, she could appreciate how he looked.

He catches her hand and she makes a face at him. "I am being perfectly careful, thanks."

She hasn't even had all of two cups of wine. She's not that much of a lightweight. Probably.

[nerves_of_ice]

"My mistake then," he agrees, easily, and lets her wrist go again. For some reason, he still looks amused.

[from_the_outside]

"I can't believe you're laughing at me," she accuses, even as she's laughing herself. "If this is going to my head – which it isn't – it's because I didn't sleep much last night and I had a small lunch."

It isn't, really. It's just enough to make her feel a little warmer and bring a flush to her cheeks and relax her a bit; her eyes are still plenty clear and her movements are only a little looser than usual. "Rude."

[nerves_of_ice]

"Of course it isn't," he says, and leans in for a quick kiss. "I'm just glad to see you happy."

[from_the_outside]

"Hmm," she says, but the skepticism evaporates beneath his kiss and she's smiling when she pulls away again.

"I am." Even with this morning. Last night. Everything that's about to hit. Her smile tinges slightly rueful and she puts her wine down to thread her fingers into his hair, thumb rubbing lightly into his scalp. "It's going to be a tough few weeks. Might as well enjoy ourselves while we can."

[nerves_of_ice]

He stays still under her touch, watching her.

"It'll be okay," he murmurs. "It will."

[from_the_outside]

"I know."

Her voice is just as soft as his. It's the reality of the kind of people they are: there will always be weeks like the ones ahead of them. So why not snatch all the happiness out of the good days and hours that they can? "Hopefully these next few days won't have to tide me over for long."

A few weeks, Shuri said. Maybe not even that long.

There's still a wry shade to her mouth as she strokes her fingers through his hair. "Do you dream, when you're under?"

[nerves_of_ice]

"Sometimes. I think. It's hard to say."

He frowns a little, giving that serious consideration. "I have a few memories that I think are dreams. Were dreams. But it's not ... I think that was a long time ago. When they used the water, rather than the ice."

[from_the_outside]

"It's not really like sleep, is it? More like a...medically-induced coma. I guess you probably won't have any idea how long it takes, or doesn't," she says, thoughtful.

It's strange how much of a relief that is. However long the next few weeks feel, that it won't be long to him. "That's good."

[nerves_of_ice]

"The first time it was. Or, well." He grimaces at himself, and tries again. "More like sleep than any of the times since."

He reaches out to capture one of her hands, absently running his thumb back and forth over her fingers. "The rest of it - it happens fast. One second you're awake, and then suddenly it's really cold, and everything stops. After that, there's not much of anything. If even anything at all."

[from_the_outside]

Her mouth twists, but she just listens and nods, curling her fingers over his, letting her other hand rest at the back of his neck. "That's something," she says, even if her tone is a little wry. "I'll feel better knowing you're not stuck mentally twiddling your thumbs for a couple of weeks."

Or stuck in a nightmare. She's not thrilled about the cryo, but at least he won't even know he's in it, for the most part.

[nerves_of_ice]

"Yeah, it's not like that," he reassures her.

"It definitely wasn't like that the first time Shuri put me under. I was awake, and then it was cold and I closed my eyes, and then I was awake again. It didn't feel like any time had passed at all."

[from_the_outside]

She takes a long deep breath and smiles, very slightly. "Good."

Small favors. "With any luck it won't be much time, anyway."

[nerves_of_ice]

"Longer for you than for me," he murmurs, and squeezes her hand.

[from_the_outside]

"Yes," she says, straight-faced. "I will pine away. It'll be very Victorian. Do you think I could get a fainting couch put in my room?"

It's easier to tease than to look down the barrel of the weeks ahead, but her fingers tighten on his anyway and make a liar out of her.

[nerves_of_ice]

"By the window," he suggests, and lifts her hand for a quick kiss to her fingers. "That way you can pine with a view."

[from_the_outside]

"Too much sun," she counters. "I can't be all dramatically wan and pale if I'm soaking up a puddle of sunshine every afternoon. And – do you hear that?"

She pauses for a second, listening. It's faint, but – "I think that's my phone."

Leaning forward, she gives him a quick kiss and a wry look before she disentangles herself from around him. "I better answer it. Could be Fury again."

[nerves_of_ice]

"Hasn't been twenty-four hours," he notes, even as all animation fades from his expression, leaving only watchful neutrality behind.

He grabs the carrier and pushes it her way, making it easier for her to find the phone.

[from_the_outside]

"Fury plays by his own rules," she says, getting to her feet. "No, it's in my tote, one second – "

The ringing stops before she gets to her bag, still leaning against the wall of the hut, but starts again as she digs through its contents. Unknown number blinks on the screen and she takes a fortifying breath, then hits the button and brings the phone to her ear. "Yes?"

For a second or two, nothing happens, then all the stress and aggravation melt away like they were never there, and Sharon smiles, really smiles, all relieved pleasure before her eyes meet Bucky's. "Hi," she says, and smiles again. "Yeah. Hang on."

She comes back over to the blanket, saying "I'm putting you on speaker," before she sits back down across from Bucky and holds the phone out, thumbing the speaker icon.

"Hey, Buck," says Steve Rogers, all warmth and reassurance, and Sharon can't help but feel, like she always does at the sound of his voice, that everything will be fine. "Nat told me the strangest thing today, about Fury."

There's a laugh in his voice. "Figured I should give you both a call and see what he's up to."

[nerves_of_ice]

"Steve," he says, and the coldness that had been seeping in is washed away like it was never there. "Hey, yourself."

Bucky smiles at the phone, then at Sharon, before he adds, "Yeah, it was a hell of a surprise for everyone, I think. Looks like he's not done sticking his fingers into every pie he can find."

[from_the_outside]

"Sounds like Fury, all right," Steve agrees, sounding more than a little wry. "He's always got something up his sleeve. He give you anything useful?"

"Useful, yes," Sharon says. "How we'll use it is still up in the air, but he had some good intel."

Steve makes a thoughtful noise, then: "What's the catch?"

"He wants a favor," Sharon tells him, glancing at Bucky. "You know how he is. He wants a string he can pull on down the line when he needs it."

[nerves_of_ice]

The look he gives her is more exasperated than before.

"He wants a favor from Agent 13," he clarifies. "Help on one or two of his own concerns is how he put it." There's no hiding the way his tone flattens. "T'Challa's got a couple of alternatives in mind to offer, but whether or not he'll bite is anyone's guess."