[oom] you don't need to save me, but would you run away with me? // Part 2

[from_the_outside]

It's a long, long week. 

All the weeks here are long. She's been exhausted since she first arrived, and it hasn't gotten any easier – she's just gotten used to it.

What she isn't used to is watching what it does to Bucky.

He keeps busy, vanishing shortly after breakfast and not reappearing until well after dark, sometimes not until close to midnight. That doesn't mean she doesn't have eyes on him – she has eyes everywhere in this city. Some of what he gets up to he tells her about. Some of it she sees or hears about.

Some she only pieces together after the fact.

For example:

Four days into his stay she sees a flurry of alerts and messages about a gang of thugs that had decided to tangle with him in a Lowtown market. The videos of him throwing them into plate glass windows and walls and storefront doors travel through Madripoor like wildfire.

And then there are the rumors. It's public knowledge he killed Cade and that he's been seen with the art dealer: what no one knows is why, and the whispers grow steadily more frenetic as the week rolls on. The general consensus seems to be that the art dealer had Cade disposed of in order to help her own climb to power. More than one person attempts to contract him for help with an unsolvable problem. No one manages to hire him. No one seems to know what he wants.

Worse is that as the power dynamic between those on the lower rung vying for Selby's position fluctuates, he deliberately allows himself to be seen more often, delves more deeply into Madripoor's seedy shadows. She doesn't understand until her security catches a would-be assassin she saw coming a mile away, and then she realizes: his involvement with her, with Cade, has painted a target on her back.

So he's decided to paint a larger one on his own.

He loses weight. She pushes breakfast and dinner at him, but he eats mechanically, hardly seems to notice. The lines drawn on his face seem carved into rock. He stops smiling except occasionally when they're alone in the middle of the night, or when his phone pings with a text from Sam.

On the fifth night, he stops sleeping. 

He wakes up from a nightmare he refuses to talk about, and for the next few days she doesn't see him sleep at all. He's catching catnaps like he used to back in the Winter Soldier days, she thinks, but she's not sure. Every day he's a little quieter, a little more grim.

Which is why it's so strange that her apartment is completely filled with flowers.

Everywhere she looks now, there they are: large, expensive bouquets in fancy vases on nearly every available surface. He's had one delivered every single day, and every day she hates herself a little more for bringing him here. Every day he tells her come home with me.

Every day she tells him I can't. And he looks at her with those determined, weary eyes, and her heart breaks a little more.

It's a little over a week after he'd first arrived that she's hosting clients again. The party hasn't even started, and she already wishes she had a drink.

(There weren't any flowers today. She wonders if that's a sign.)

Comments

[from_the_outside]

She grimaces as she pulls her hand back again. "Well, I learned from the best," she says, wry. "I know you hate it. I'm sorry."

But there's a tiny smile crooking the corner of her mouth after she blows out a sigh and coughs again to clear her throat. "But we're going home. It'll be worth it."

And this time she's going to make sure nothing, nothing at all, stands in their way.

[nerves_of_ice]

"Yes," he confirms, and reaches to catch her hand in his. "It will."

He's eyeing her a little more carefully now, the reason for which becomes clear when he asks,

"In the meantime... what did the doctor tell you?"

[from_the_outside]

She reaches over to the table for her water, shaking her head. "To call her if anything goes seriously wrong," she says, wry.

"She gave me a shot and some oxygen. A little rest, I'll be fine."

[nerves_of_ice]

The look on his face shouts volumes about his opinion of the doctor.

"Uh-huh," he says, dryly. "Why don't we get you cleaned up, in some clothes that don't have poison residue on them, and then see?"

[from_the_outside]

She's not going to argue. The quality of medical attention here in Madripoor leaves a lot to be desired. "That sounds like a really good idea."

One last night here. She can't say she'll miss the place. Putting a hand on his shoulder, she pushes herself up and off the couch to set actions to words.

[nerves_of_ice]

He lets her get to her feet before he simply stands and swings her into his arms, then carries her toward the French doors and the bedroom beyond.

[from_the_outside]

She laughs, though it hurts her throat and her chest, and puts her head on his shoulder, affectionate and amused.

"I have legs, you know," she points out. "They work and everything."

Not that she's complaining. If he wants to carry her around, let him; she doesn't want to be more than an arm's length from him, either.

[nerves_of_ice]

He makes a disapproving sound and otherwise ignores that observation, carrying her all the way through to the ensuite before he lowers her to the floor.

"Bath or shower?"

[from_the_outside]

"Shower," she says, leaning against the sink and watching him. A bath sounds wonderful and she'd rather not stand for too long, but the steam from the shower should help her breathing and her sore throat. She can sit on the floor of the tub if she needs to.

[nerves_of_ice]

The look he gives her at that is frankly skeptical. "Okay. Stay there for a moment."

Bucky disappears through the door into the bedroom and goes to retrieve soft, comfortable clothing for her. He's back in very short order, and examining her to see how difficult it'd been for her to stand while he was gone.

[from_the_outside]

As ordered, she hasn't moved – though whether that's because her legs are behaving enough to let her stand or because she's resting nearly all of her weight against the sink is anyone's guess.

"Thanks," she tells him, and nods to the counter. "You can just leave them there."

[nerves_of_ice]

"Uh-huh," he says, laying the clothes where indicated. "Now, are you going to let me help you with your shower?"

[from_the_outside]

"What are the chances you'll take 'no' for an answer?" she asks, but it's rhetorical. She gives the shower a resigned nod, giving him the go-ahead to turn it on as she starts peeling off her clothes, tossing them into the hamper nearby.

[nerves_of_ice]

"Pretty slim," he informs her. Bucky turns on the shower and leans down to unfasten his boots, then starts stripping out of his own clothing.

From his manner, he's focused on practicality rather than anything else.

[from_the_outside]

She's tossing pants and underwear into the hamper when she glances up at him. The sharp breath she takes when she sees the scrapes and bruises left from his accident earlier kicks off another round of coughing, and she's watery-eyed once it's passed.

"Bucky, your leg –"

He's right about her not having it in herself to stand for too long, but she walks slowly over to him to look him over, hissing like it's her own leg that's been scraped raw. "That looks like it hurts."

[nerves_of_ice]

"It'll heal." He'd forgotten about it, in light of everything else that'd happened, and hadn't even thought how she might feel on seeing it. "I've had worse."

[from_the_outside]

She bends to examine it, grimacing at the dirt and debris she can still see, then turns an utterly disbelieving look on him. "Who do you think you're talking to?" she demands. "Someone who'll accept this 'I'm fully operational so it doesn't matter' crap? Absolutely not."

It's the work of a second to go to the shower and turn it off, then set the tub running instead before she turns back to him, eyes flashing. "You need to soak that leg."

That's more movement than she'd meant to take: she sits a little abruptly on the edge of the tub and glares at him. "I'll help you clean it out but I won't take 'no' for an answer, either."

[nerves_of_ice]

He stares at her as she glares back at him, absolutely determined even though she herself is wobbly with exertion, and no one's more surprised than he is when he starts to laugh.

Still laughing, Bucky bends down to kiss her.

[from_the_outside]

She's bristling with annoyance in much the same way she had a lifetime ago in a little rented flat in Thessaloniki, and her jaw sets when he starts laughing at her, though it softens when he leans down to kiss her.

"I'm serious," she tells him as he pulls away. "Don't think I'm not."

[nerves_of_ice]

"I know," he tells her, and tucks a lock of hair behind her ear. "I'm not arguing."

He smiles, small and sweet. "It's a big tub, you know."

[from_the_outside]

"Big enough for two," she acquiesces, and smiles to see him smile.

He hasn't smiled in so long. Not like this. Not really. "Will you grab the epsom salts from under the sink?"

As he does, she leans over to run her hand through the water, giving the tub a rueful look. "I'll miss this tub," she says. It's huge and fancy and it has jets built in and she loves it.

But not as much as she loves him. She pats the side. "I'm glad we get one last night together."

[nerves_of_ice]

He gets the salts and starts measuring them into the bath after a quick look at the label.

"Yeah, my apartment isn't as fancy or as big," he admits. "I hope that's okay."

[from_the_outside]

"It's got you," she tells him. "That's all I care about. Besides –"

She shrugs slightly, looking around at the ornate fixtures, the marble, the molding. "You were right before. This place doesn't suit me."

[nerves_of_ice]

"No," he murmurs, watching her. "It doesn't."

[from_the_outside]

The water pressure does, though. The tub's already full and steaming. She shuts the faucet off and swings her legs carefully over the edge of the tub into the water, hissing slightly at the heat, then slides in all the way. The water comes up to her chest, and a flush begins to spread across her skin from the warmth.

She looks over at him and indicates the other half of the tub. "Come on, Barnes. In you go."