TWELVE—JUST CHECKING IN
————————————————————

"LEAVE IT ALONE, it looks fine," I rolled my eyes at his constant movements to adjust the way his freshly trimmed locks fell on his broad shoulders. "It's gonna grow back in, like, two weeks."

Standing in the kitchen, he stayed near the edge of the kitchen, closer to the hallway and watched as I made grilled cheese sandwiches for the both of us. Though I turned my back away from him, I could still feel his brilliant blue eyes on me as the sandwiches sizzled on the frying pan. 

"I haven't gotten a haircut for seventy years," he replied. "Forgive me for being a little attached to my hair."

I set down the spatula and turned to face him, crossing my arms with a growing smirk on my lips. "Was that a joke?"

He didn't reply, but his mouth turned up at the corners, setting a flurry of butterflies loose in my gut. Stop letting your hormones act up, I cursed myself silently.

I wasn't sure when his eyes became so bright all of a sudden, or when his glimmer of a smirk became a necessity in the day, or when his mere presence became so comforting. Perhaps it was that little, seemingly empty sentence he uttered only an hour before.

You deserve better than that.

He obviously didn't realize how significant those words were to me, as he'd just gone on with his day, quiet as usual. But I couldn't stop looking at him. 

Perhaps he was more than what the past made him out to be. Perhaps.

When I finished the sandwiches, I reached into the refrigerator to pour each of us a glass of milk but came up empty. "Looks like we're having water," I mumbled to myself, hearing my father's disappointed voice in the back of my head, telling me that a job, any job, was a necessity to living alone with no one to provide for me. Shrugging off the memory, I grabbed two glasses and filled them with water from the sink. 

Sometimes I wondered how I was still able to pay the bills just off of what I managed to save throughout my life.

As I sat down at the kitchen table with our measly meal, Bucky raised his eyebrows. "What?"

Scowling, I grumbled, "Sorry it's not a five-star gourmet meal made by Gordon Ramsay." When his face scrunched into an expression of confusion, I waved a hand in dismissal. "Never mind."

He shook his head and began eating but I didn't touch my food, unable to let it go. 

"It's not like I haven't had jobs before," I said, "I just prefer living off of the plants I grow. There's nothing wrong with that."

Bucky looks up at me in mid-bite, a string of melted cheese swaying from his lips to the sandwich. His eyes flick away from mine, staring in question around the room, obviously unsure of how to react.

"Right?" I continued, picking up my sandwich. "I'm just independent. I don't need anybody's help."

He nodded, swallowing before saying anything. "If it helps you sleep at night."

I rolled my eyes. "I wasn't looking for any sass from you, Barnes," I mumbled, taking a bite. A few seconds passed in silence. "Sorry. I didn't mean to bring you into any of my daddy issues."

Bucky shrugged. "Everyone's got issues. Don't apologize for it."

I grinned softly. "You know, you're really wise when you're not...brooding."

He cocked an eyebrow, taking a sip of water as he stared at me over the rim of the glass. "I'm almost a hundred years old. What do you expect?"

My eyes widened, choking on the bite of grilled cheese in my mouth as I heard him. "I seem to have forgotten about that minor detail."

Bucky smirked.

————————————————————

"Why didn't you let me cut it all off?"

"Not this again," he groaned, absently running his hand through his hair. "It's like I said. I'm not that person anymore."

I threw my hands up in the air, flopping down on the couch in a huff. "Oh my god, it's hair. How can you manage to be emo about a haircut?" Pointing a finger at him, I added, "Besides, it would've saved shampoo."

For the second time that night, he gave me a look of pure confusion. "What's emo?"

A sarcastic remark was on the tip of my tongue but the ringing of my phone interrupted the moment. Reaching over to grab it, my eyes sharpened at the unfamiliar number. Cautiously, I held it up to my ear and answered, "Uh, hello?"

"Hey, kid."

The deep rasp of a certain war veteran with a bird suit rumbles through my senses, causing my heartbeat to stutter. "S-Sam?"

"I promised I wouldn't wait another three years to check in, remember?" I heard the lilt in his voice and nearly crumbled with the relief of knowing he was okay. 

"How are you even calling me right now?" I asked, beckoning Bucky to sit beside me, tapping the button that would put the call on speaker. "Aren't you, like, on the run from the whole world?"

"I'd tell you, but that would kind of ruin the purpose of flying under the radar, wouldn't it?" In the background, I could hear Steve's voice, saying something that sounded like, "get to the point."

I glanced up at Bucky, who had tentatively joined me on the couch, perched on the edge of the seat with a straight back. He stared at my phone with an unreadable expression. "So what's up?" I asked, trying to keep a nervous tremor out of my voice.

Sam sighed. "Listen closely, okay? Someone may have dropped a tip to the CIA."

My stomach dropped. "What?"

"We don't know if it involves you at all. It could be a bogey. But an anonymous tip came into the organization and ever since, we've had men in fancy-ass black suits on our tracks. We've fallen into sticky situations a few times." His attempt to reassure me of my safety only riled me up about his.

"Sam...this is real. You could get in a lot of trouble if you're caught." My heart clenched in the painful thought of losing another loved one to the law. 

"That's why we won't get caught," he replied, confidence oozing from his words and into my ears. "Just...keep your doors locked for the next few days. And don't go outside."

"O-okay," I mumbled, looking wide-eyed at Bucky, who mirrored my reaction. "You're gonna be safe, right?"

"Of course. What kind of friend would I be if I died on you?"

I glared at the phone. "Don't joke about that, Sam. That's not funny."

"Sorry," he apologizes. "I'll try to call you later. When it's safe."

I didn't say anything in response, just jabbed my thumb on the 'end call' button angrily. "Goddamn it, Sam Wilson," I cursed under my breath. 

Bucky cleared his throat. "I can leave," he said softly.

I jerked my head up to meet his eyes. "What are you talking about? Didn't you hear what he just said? Lock the doors and don't leave the house?"

He looked down. "Yeah, but...you shouldn't have to do all that for me. I can't ask you to risk your safety for me."

Shaking my head, I pointed a finger at his face. "You listen here, Barnes. As strange as our situation is, I'm not letting you sacrifice yourself to those suit-wearing dickheads. I've dealt with those dweebs enough to last a lifetime. So you're staying in this house."

He held up his hand in defeat. "I was just making a suggestion." His eyes flickered to a sense of gratitude. "No one's ever wanted to keep me around. I guess, no one but Steve."

I opened my mouth to reply but the sound stopped me. I swallowed roughly as the noise repeated itself.

A knock at the door. 

"I'd say it's the wrong time for self-pity," I managed to squeak out in a shaky tone. "We've got visitors."

————————————————————

honestly infinity war was so emotionally exhausting, the only things that gave me a boost to publish this chapter were the comments from spideyshots and uhhhsteve for the past 24 hours :) thanks for the wonderful feedback, it really made my day

also...like i said on chapter eleven, if you haven't read the HOME duology (home + stay), it will prove to be beneficial...just sayin

i'm listening to all the old marvel scores, the happy stuff from the first thor movie is really getting me bc...ya know...

thank you for reading, we'll find out who's on the other side of that door in chapter thirteen!! and thanks so so so much for 1k reads!

xoxo laura

published on: may 6, 2018