Bucky's Turn

The hours of the night slowly seep by. I sit by low lamp-light with a pen in my hand and another leather journal on my lap. Every few minutes my eyes wander over to the sleeping beauty in the usually empty space of my bed. Sadie lies beside me with her hands nestled under her freckled cheek and her dark curls stark against the satin white pillowcase. When I see her I can't help but smile. But then I remember why she's here; in my bed, that is, and I'm no longer in the smiling mood.

A deep, angry huff of hot air puffs out of my mouth. I stare back down at the page in front of me—no longer as interested in documenting details of myself. I've been trying to journal whenever I can. The doctors say it'll help with my memory. I've done it since even before they froze me over: I was always trying to scrap together pieces of a life that I'd forgotten. It was backup for if I ever forgot again. Looking back, I'm not so sure what was so important to put in there. There's only one thing that's important in my life now.

I flip to the next empty page with my sweat-dampened thumb. My pen connects at the start and then the words start rolling.

It's 0400. She sleeps on her side facing me. The shirt I've given her to wear is too big; but I like it when she wears baggy clothes—especially when they're mine. She doesn't snore like I do, but every few minutes she'll let out a soft hum. It's adorable, dammit. Every movement she makes I look to her worried that she's woken up; but she's always just slowly inching closer. I wonder how long it'll take before she's nestled into my side. I know then I'll be able to smell her strawberry shampoo and the baking soda toothpaste she uses. I've been meaning to tell her that I like it when she wears her hair down, but I'm worried she'll mistake it for me not liking it when it's done up. I love it either way. The only thing is, is that when it's down she'll play with the curls—bits wrapped around her pretty little fingers just like she's got me ensnared. And then when the stray bits tickle her nose she crunches it up before rubbing it away with the back of her wrist. When she lies with her head on my lap I like to feel the softness between my fingers. I've lost a lot of sensation from the hard callouses. I hope I never lose the ability to feel her—her hair, her skin, her bottom lip under my thumb. I hope I never lose that. And I hope I never lose her, either. She's the—

A loud, sharp noise like rolling thunder or an emptying magazine shakes me down. I drop the pen and lurch towards the sound. My phone is vibrating on the nightstand.

UNKNOWN NUMBER.

I quickly mute the phone. I've got to take it; but not here, not while Sadie's sleeping. Carefully I pry myself out of the covers and away from her radiating warmth. On gentle feet I hurry to the next room where I lock myself out and then press the green little button on screen.

I'm not the first to speak. I refuse to be.

"Sargent Barnes?"

I glance around. "Who's asking?"

"This is Agent Hill from Shield."

I let out a silent breath. I walk my way towards the couch until I can take a seat. "I'm hoping that this is the call to tell me this is all over."

The tone of her voice tells me right away that I'm wrong. "Sargent, we received a call from Tony Stark. We arrived on scene ten minutes after your departure and easily dealt with the aftermath of your altercation."

"There's a point here, and I'm anxious to hear it." I flick a bit of lint from my pant leg.

"My team did some digging into the suspect. Per suggestion of the director I'd like to share the results of our findings with you first; you can make the call to share any or all information with Ms. Schatz."

My weight lowers back into the seat. "Alright. I'm listening."

The voice on the other side of the line goes on to say, "The suspect looked, as you saw, to be your average run-of-the-mill street assaulter type. There was nothing to lead us to believe that Schatz had been personally targeted."

"But something changed your mind." I try hard now to keep my head and heart from converging on this matter.

"Exactly. Sargent, we have reason to believe that Ms. Schatz was targeted tonight because of her involvement with the Avengers. The suspect looks to be a hired hitman, of sorts, maybe made to pick her up and drop her off at a secondary location. We're still looking into who could've possibly put this all together, but—"

"Was it Hydra?" I'm too impatient to wait.

Hill clears her throat. "Not likely, Sargent. They've been underground for nearly a year now. This isn't their style, either. You should know that as well as anyone."

Thanks for the reminder, lady.

I pinch the bridge of my nose. I can feel myself quivering. With rage? With fear? I'm not sure. All I know is that every palpable emotion imaginable is racing through my veins and I fucking hate it.

"What about her father? You've seen what he's done, haven't you?" Stark would've filled them in on it all when he talked to them, surely. 

"We have," the woman replies evenly. "But we don't believe that he's involved. While it's too juvenile to have been Hydra, it was still too elaborate of a plan to involve a civilian. The man's records were wiped clean and all of his affiliations gone from the system. There's no way her father could've had his hands in this."

Great, I think to myself with a huff, so there's MORE people out to get Sadie. 

"We're going to dig deeper. I've got my best team on the case. In the meantime, I think it's best to keep Ms. Schatz in the dark."

"She didn't ask for any of this." My hard glare softens when I look back to the closed bedroom door.

"Not directly, but she chose to be with you—which makes her a target for anyone who cares enough to make a statement to the Avengers."

My fingers card through my long hair until I can tug and feel the slight burn. "Who else knows about this?"

"We're sending a debriefing of all we know so far to your other team members. According to Stark, they're around the subject just as often and should be on the lookout for anything suspicious."

"I'm going to need all of those documents first. Everything you find on the bastard or who hired him is to come directly to me."

"No offense, Sargent, but I don't take orders from you." She sounds tired with me.

My fists turn into clenched boulders—one metal, one man. "As long as you and your Shield buddies don't want me on the loose searching the country for these people myself—tearing this whole goddamn planet apart brick by brick—you better be keeping me in the loop, Agent Hill."

"Is that a threat, Sargent Barnes?"

I want to roll my eyes. "No. The only threats I plan to be making are to the ones responsible for the shit show I walked in on tonight when I found Sadie in a pile of garbage about to have her head blown off."

"Believe me; we both have the same goal here. I want Ms. Schatz as safe and blissfully unaware as you do. She's a civilian; she's protected by Shield. And I know she's gained the protection of you and all the other Avenger's as well, so she's sure to be safe."

"I have no doubts she'll be safe. I'm going to make sure of that," I say. "I just want your word, Agent that you're going to find whoever the hell is behind all of this so that I can serve up a proper punishment."

"Whatever or whomever we find will receive the proper consequences through Shield, Sargent."

I want to scoff. The moment I learn who's behind all this—who's got a goddamn price on Sadie's head—there's going to be nothing in this whole goddamn universe strong enough to stop me from ripping them to shreds.

But I lie and say, "I'll agree to that. As long as you agree to catch them."

"You have my word, Sargent."

Then the phone conversation comes to an end. I'm left standing in front of the wall I so commonly punch when I'm angry. Now I'm afraid to land any blows—fearful of waking sweet Sadie up and having her rush to see what's wrong.

She doesn't deserve this. I don't even deserve to be with her. But I can't leave her; not when she's so vulnerable. Not when she needs me. Even if I wanted to leave, I'm afraid I never could. I don't think there's a bone in my body that would let me walk out the door. She'd have to be the one to do it—have to push me away or break my heart. I'd let her crush me before ever having the backbone to tell her goodbye. No, I have no other option here than to stay with her like my heart truly wants, and to keep my promise of keeping her safe. My life has meaning now thanks to Sadie, and I'm going to make sure it stays that way.

A shrill noise breaks through the ravaging white waters of my mind. The scream is short and eerie—sending my whole body into a state of self-defense and panic. My legs kick dust behind me as I break off towards the sound that first came from my bedroom. Now gone, the scream is replaced by muffled sobs. Sadie's perched upright in bed with the sheets all strewn around her and her body crunched over her lap. She's crying into her hands with intensity I've never seen her shed before. There have been tears here and there, mainly during movies, but I've yet to witness a sight as utterly agonizing as this. In all my years on earth I've never been so utterly devastated.

"Hey, hey, hey—it's okay, baby it's okay." I hardly even have control of the words that come tumbling out of my mouth. I rush to the bed and throw myself next to her. I struggle between caution and compulsion with what to do with my arms. I want to wrap her up whole, but she's so shriveled and scared—I don't want to hurt her.

My hand presses to her back. The moment my palm makes connection she's turning her body into mine and her face is on my chest. Those small, beautiful hands grab at my neck and I'm closing my eyes to the feeling of her wet cheeks on my bare skin.

"He's not here, Sadie. It's just you and me." I stroke her hair. I rock us back and forth. "No one's going to hurt you."

"I—I almost died," she hiccups.

I knew this was coming. She's been putting of this reaction for so long. I saw the light jests in the bubble bath and the crooked grins before bed. I knew that sometime soon the freight train of fear would smash into her fragile frame and she'd go ricocheting off into the distance like some poor little bird.

"And-and he's dead—he tried to kill me and now he's dead... and I don't know what to think b-but fuck, I was so scared..."

"It's all over now," I try to soothe her. I hold her tighter and she responds by nuzzling closer into my lap. "Everything's gonna be okay, angel. You don't have to cry; please don't cry." I'm close to tears now, too.

Sadie's head nods. Her hands are holding onto my biceps and she grips them tightly before letting go. She stays in my lap though with her head on my chest. I'm grateful that the tears have stopped. The sight of her sobbing nearly killed me.

"I'm sorry," she whispers into the silent room. Before I can question the words, she adds, "I'm sorry—I'm sorry. I wish I never walked home..."

"No, no, it's not your fault." I hold her sticky, tear-stained cheeks in my hands. I pull her face up until her wide green eyes meet mine. "Don't you dare apologize to me, Sadie. This wasn't your fault. There's nothing to be sorry for." I wait until it seems like she's drank up my words before going on in a slightly less intense voice. "Okay?"

Hesitantly, she nods. "Okay, James." She takes a deep breath and then hastily wipes her eyes. "Okay."

My lips press to the top of her curly head. She runs her fingers over my collarbone until I pull away. "Come on now. Let's go to bed." I help her back under the covers and then don't hesitate to crawl beside her. I curl into her from behind with my metal arm draped securely over her waist. She scoots tighter against me—her small body molding into mine like she was built just for me.

I hear her take a heavy breath. "Don't leave me," she whispers.

Eyes closed, I kiss the back of her neck. "I wouldn't dream of it, doll."