[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]

This time he does nod, and shifts position until he's once more stretched out alongside her.

"Think you can go back to sleep okay?" he murmurs.

[from_the_outside]

"Don't worry about me," she tells him, softly, and settles her hand back on his chest. "I can always sleep."

She watches his profile in the dark, feeling him breathe into her palm. "Will you?"

[nerves_of_ice]

"Eventually."

The dream's already fading faster than usual. He's not sure if that's because it hadn't fully gotten its claws into him, or because he's not alone in the dark.

"Sooner rather than later," he adds, and thinks it's even true.

[from_the_outside]

"Okay."

She shifts close enough to kiss his cheek and settles back against him, her arm over his stomach, her chin brushing his shoulder.

[nerves_of_ice]

He's quiet for a while, almost long enough that it might seem he's dozed off again before he murmurs,

"It might not be the only one."

[from_the_outside]

She's relaxed, her arm heavy across his torso, but she hasn't drifted back off either.

"Okay," she says, her sleepy voice soft in the dark. "We'll deal with them one at a time, then."

She's not worried about it. She's already slept better here, now, than she did without him the night before.

[nerves_of_ice]

He doesn't say anything at first, but shifts beside her. Bucky bends his head and presses a kiss to the top of her head, holding it for a long, long moment.

"Okay," he whispers, finally.

[from_the_outside]

She makes a soft sound as his lips press against her hair and tucks herself a little more securely against his side.

"Get some sleep," she murmurs. "I'll be right here."

[nerves_of_ice]

"Okay," he says again, and attempts to do just that. Here in the night where he's not alone, with Sharon curled against him, it's easier than he might have expected it would be.

The next time he wakes, blinking from amorphous nightmare to awareness in a single cold flash, he finds that she's still sleeping peacefully beside him. Bucky takes a moment to be grateful, then forces himself to relax and slip back into sleep.

[from_the_outside]

This time when she wakes, it isn't slow or peaceful at all.

Bucky's shuddering next to her – no, not shuddering, she realizes, shivering, like he's freezing, even though he's throwing off so much heat he feels nearly feverish, and as she sits up, blinking sleep out of her eyes, he groans in such despairing agony that her heart feels like it stops in her chest.

This one is worse. Whatever it is, it's worse than before.

"Bucky," she says. He reaches with his hand, grasping for something she can't see, and she takes it in hers. "Bucky, wake up."

[nerves_of_ice]

The cold sinks into his bones like poison, dragging him down, even as he fights against it, trying to resist. He can see Steve through the cryo chamber's thick glass window, can see him talking to Sharon, the two of them deep in conversation -- neither of them noticing the danger that's racing their way from the blackness beyond. He presses his hand flat against the window, trying to get their attention, then bangs his fist against the glass.

"God, please, look at me, please, you have to--"

Bright stars shatter through the glass, transforming into frost patterns, and he throws his head back with a scream, gasping for breath.

[from_the_outside]

He howls and her heart breaks – she's only heard him like this once before, during the scan – and she switches tactics, taking his grasping hand in one of hers and settling the other at the side of his head even as he throws it violently back.

"Bucky," she says, louder, urgent. "Bucky. I'm here. I'm right here. I'm looking at you. Everything is okay. Sweetheart, wake up."

[nerves_of_ice]

"Bucky--"

Glass shatters around him, exploding outward, and he jerks upright, blinking wildly in the darkness for a moment before his eyes focus on her.

Steve's gone - no, Steve was never here, that was the dream. But Sharon is, worried, holding his hand and trying to bring him out of it. Again.

"Ah, fuck," he hisses, and closes his eyes - only to open them again quickly, not ready to see the images waiting behind his eyelids. "Damn it. I'm sorry." Even as he says it, his hand tightens on hers.

[from_the_outside]

"It's okay," she says, without hesitation, and tucks his hand in hers, pressing the back of it against her chest as she smoothes over his hair with the other.

Birds are starting to chirp outside, and as she looks at the window she can see a faint gray tinge to the light. "It's almost dawn anyhow," she tells him. "Do you want to try and get a little more sleep, or get up?"

[nerves_of_ice]

"I'm not sleeping again after that," he says, low and steady, and starts to shift so he can get to his feet. "You can, though."

[from_the_outside]

"I'm okay," she says, sitting up and drawing her knees up to her chest, the sheet pulling over them as she loops her arms around them and watches him. "Do you want me to make some coffee?"

He might prefer doing it himself, she knows. Something to do, something to focus on.

[nerves_of_ice]

"I need to bring in fresh water first," he says. Bucky pulls on a pair of pants, then comes back to lean over the bed and kiss her, gentle and sweet.

"Morning," he murmurs, when it breaks. "Sorry it's starting so early."

[from_the_outside]

"Morning," she says, smiling at him. "I don't mind. I need to get better about waking up early anyway."

She's still not a morning person, but as long as she doesn't have to do much in the way of complicated thinking, she should be fine.

[nerves_of_ice]

He kisses her again, wordlessly, then turns away to snag the pitcher and go outside for water.

[from_the_outside]

She gets up when the door closes and digs through her tote for a pair of soft shorts and a tank top; she's not ready yet for real clothes, but if he wants to sit outside she should at least put something on.

She picks up the Jenga blocks as she waits for him, too, smiling to herself as she does.

[nerves_of_ice]

It takes him a while, long enough to splash cold water on his face and over his neck until the dream's driven away completely, long enough to wash up and only then fill the pitcher.

He carries it back inside, his hair damp and curling around his neck, and pours enough water into the kettle to fill the press before he reaches for the coffee tin.

[from_the_outside]

She's sitting cross-legged on the bed (now made, though still a little rumpled) when he comes back in, and smiles a little at the way his damp hair curls against the nape of his neck.

"Better?" she asks.

Sometimes you just need to stick your head in some cold water and let the shock of it ground you.

[nerves_of_ice]

"Better," he agrees. "Sorry. Again."

He starts to add another spoon of coffee to the press and visibly checks himself, stopping before it's too strong.

[from_the_outside]

"Don't worry about it," she says, and quirks a half-smile at him.

"Make it as strong as you want. I can always make another pot."

[nerves_of_ice]

He shakes his head, sets the coffee tin aside, and picks up the now-boiling kettle to fill the press with water. Once it's brewing, he comes to sit beside her on the bed, and reaches for her hand, but doesn't say anything. Not yet.