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It had been a few weeks since you had seen Bucky and that was rare. He usually checked in with you every couple of days.
His paranoia needed to make a walk through of your apartment every so often just to make sure that it was secure. He would knock, walk the perimeter, check all the windows to make sure all the locks he installed were still functional before checking your door and the locks he installed there, too. You would make him dinner, sometimes he would stay for a movie before returning home feeling more comfortable knowing that you were safe.
You were convinced that half the reason he did it was so that he wasn't alone.
It was unusual that you hadn't seen him for a few weeks so you took it upon yourself to make sure he was alright just like he always has for you.
You walk out into your hallway and step over the mail left by his door. Well that's a little concerning. That means his box by the door is full.
You knock on your neighbor's door with a soft series of thunks. When the door doesn't open you redouble your efforts and knock a little harder. By the third hard knock the door opens inwards and you nearly knock your fist against his chest instead.
You look up into the tired eyes of the man standing in front of you, and lift the small package in your hands towards him. "Hey Buck. I made extra cookies. Want some?" You smile uneasily at his disheveled appearance.
"Thanks, doll. I'm going to head back to bed though," he grumbles into his palm as he drags his calloused hand across his face. He goes to shut his door but you stick your foot in the way.
"Go get some sleep, but you're coming over for dinner later. No objections, soldier. Got it? I miss you."
He sighs. He knows you well enough to know that you will turn up at his door with food if he tells you no. "Yeah, okay. I'll come 'round about six. That okay?"
You give him a broad, toothy smile. "That's perfect. It's not like you have to go far. I will come bug the shit out of you if you are three minutes late. Understood?" Alpine sticks her head around his leg in the doorway and mrows at you. "Yes, yes, you can come too. Always."
—-
You pull dinner out of the oven and look at the clock. It's 6:30 and he hasn't knocked on your door yet. You fill his bowl with the easy chicken casserole you threw together, make a bowl of your own and walk across the hallway.
You use your key and slide past the door, still holding both bowls. You sit them gently down on the table and walk through the apartment looking for him. You stick your head past the bedroom door to see him still curled up asleep but the deep set lines on his scrunched up face tell you he's having a nightmare again. Alpine follows you in as if to supervise. You do the same thing you did last time you found him like this, generally because this way doesn't get you punched ‐ you pet his ankle gently and speak to him. "Hey, Buck. You're dreaming. I brought you dinner. We can watch whatever you want."
He sits straight up, the look of fear on his face is blatant. His breathing is fast like a prey animal facing down its predator. His hair is a disheveled mess on top of his head from tossing and turning. It takes a moment for his eyes to focus and he lets out a quiet whimper when he realizes it's you. A soft exhale escaped his lips as he registeres where he is. He reaches his right arm out and grasps towards your hand. "C'mere. Please?"
You let him tug you onto the bed and pull you down in front of him. He wraps around you like a child with a stuffed animal. "I just…need this for a few minutes. 'K?" You smile a little as he spoons against your back, burying his face into the back of your neck. You weren't used to this level of affection, but you weren't going to complain. The big white fluff ball settles in around your feet. Seems she didn't know what to do with her dad either.
You lay there for a few minutes, his breath fanning against the back of your shoulders and his arms wrapped almost painfully tight around your midsection. You tap his arm gently. "Hey, Buck…? I need to breathe, love. You okay?"
Bucky loosens his grip a little and you roll over to face him, laying your head on the corner of his pillow. He says, "Sorry. I didn't mean to squeeze you to death." You lay your arm across his waist.
He leans forward and much to your shock suddenly captures your lips with his, breathing his relaxation into you. He pulls your lower lip in between his teeth gently and smiles against your mouth. Your head swims for a moment from the softness before returning the kiss, groaning quietly.
He backs away quickly and his cheeks turn pink. "Sorry…I just — I don't know why I did that."
You chose to pretend it didn't happen, watching this discomfort ease from his panicked eyes. "Hey, you're okay. I've got you. There's chicken and rice in the kitchen. Did you pick a movie?"
You brush the strand of hair out of his face as he nods. He gives you an awkward smile. "It's sitting on the table by the couch."
You stand, brush the wrinkles out of your clothes and hold your hand out. "Well, come on then, snugglebug. You need food. Real food, not the bad fast food I've seen you order lately."
He grabs your hand and clambers off the bed in the most graceless way you have ever seen that man move. You burst into giggles unintentionally. He gives you a mock glare as you drag him into the kitchen and place the now lukewarm bowls of chicken and rice in the microwave.
Bucky wanders to the closet in the hall and grabs the fluffy blankets reserved for your movie nights and tosses the onto the couch before putting the disc into the DVD player. You still couldn't convince him to switch to streaming. Waste of money, he says, when he can just walk to the library and borrow what he wants.
The microwave dings and you carefully retrieve the bowls with hotmats before placing them on the coffee table in front of you after tossing a couple chunks of chicken into Alpine's bowl, which she happily devours. He looks at you, his bright smile a little lopsided. "Boiled chicken and rice? With mushrooms and peas? My ma used to make something similar when I was sick as a kid. More than we could usually afford, but it was my favorite."
"Good thing I remembered then, you dork." You wrap the giant blanket around you and pull the warm bowl into your lap before leaning in against his side.
The sound from the TV finally reaches your ears.
"Much that once was is lost. For none now live who remember it."