Like Real People Do

Nightmare

Author's note:Juicy Lucy is a cheese burger, malts is a type of milkshake just with the addition of malted milk powder. Also I headcanon Bucky is sort of by modern standards "weird eater" kind of again like my great grandpa,Joe (He liked olive loaf,potted meats,etc, I'll add in a few little touches...I miss him dearly)

Bucky jolts awake as he sees himself pull the trigger. He rubs the sweat off his face and steadies his breathing like Dr.Raynor taught him to. He leans against the wall and tosses the blanket off. The room is illuminated by the television playing some forgotten soccer match. He opens his phone and types a short message to W, his intelligence operative that found him through a message board. The message reads You Up...

Winnie takes a sip of her coffee and watches shaky videos on the internet of the attack on Switzerland. A new group calling themselves The Flagsmashers claimed the robbery. A small hotspot makes itself known and Winnie takes no time to get into it. The only phone in the hotspot belongs to an Army intelligence operative named Joaquin Torres. She downloads the video of the Flag Smashers to her hard drive and continues searching through his phone. Old text messages. She laughs when she sees the hash tags within the messages. Who does that? She stops on one of the selfie pictures : Cute guy, tan, short curly black hair, killer smile. It almost made her feel bad about the hacking but she needs the information on the newest threat. Since Shield went down she's been scanning for any signs of a danger that doesn't require the Avengers. She looks over at her phone glowing and vibrating.

Winnie shakes her head and nearly laughs. She composes a short message. It reads: Yes, why are you up?

Bucky: I couldn't sleep.

Winnie: Nightmare?

Bucky: I don't want to talk about it.

Winnie: So don't.

Bucky: Why are you up?

Winnie: Research.

Bucky: On who?

Winnie: Multiple people,they call themselves Flag-smashers, any insight?

Bucky: That's a dumb name.

Winnie: Well done, Buck. I found a good video from Switzerland. I tried my facial recognition software on the video but the masks must be lined with something causing interference.

Bucky: So you're good with all things technology.

Winnie: Yes but I'm not setting up another dating app for you.

Bucky: It was one time.

Winnie: Any luck?

Bucky: No.

Winnie: There's a sock for every shoe.

Bucky: Any luck on your end?

Winnie: The last time I dated someone it didn't go well.

Bucky: Am I distracting you?

Winnie: No, I can multitask. How about a game?

Bucky: I like games.

Winnie: How about Twenty Questions?

Bucky: Family?

Winnie: No. You?

Bucky: I had one. Not so much now.

Winnie: Friends?

Bucky: Not really now, you?

Winnie: I had one. We grew apart.

Bucky: So...what do you do when you're not hacking and stealing information?

Winnie: I draw. And it's not stealing its borrowing using the element of surprise. What do you do when you're not making amends?

Bucky: I haven't had much time to myself to do anything else.

Winne: What's your favorite food?

Bucky: Don't judge me for this.

Winne: Go on...

Bucky: Meatloaf sandwiches.

Winne: That's not bad.

Bucky: Made from spam.

Winnie: You ruined it.

Bucky: What's your favorite food than?

Winnie: Juicy Lucy's, and fries dipped in a strawberry malt.

Bucky: It feels like I haven't had a malt since 1943.

Winnie: Any diner worth its greasy spoons has malts.

Bucky: I guess I'll have to try one. Just not strawberry and not with fries.

Winnie: You're missing out.

Bucky: I've missed out on a lot of things, but tomorrow I'll get a malt just because of you.

Winnie: Treat yourself.

Bucky wraps his blanket around himself and lays back down. The soccer game in the background luring him into closing his eyes. The phone is snapped shut and plugged into the charger. His mind for the rest of the night is still and quiet.

Winnie closes the laptop and grabs her phone on the way to her bed. She peels back the comforter and climbs in. She flips from Bucky's message to her unanswered messages. All of them from Sharon. The most recent reads: Hey, we need to talk. Her fingers type out a response slowly but she erases it, and starts over. A few times more, and then turns off her phone without replying.