Disruption. | Bucky Barnes

Chapter 14.

I wake up screaming. I'm sweating head to toe, my skin damp to touch, expecting as I open my eyes to be set with a different scene, but shivers run down my spine as I realise I'm in the same room as my nightmare, except I can see much clearer and I'm alone. Bucky isn't here, I don't know whether that brings me slight ease? No, it definitely doesn't. I want him here.

If I knew where he was, if I knew he was okay, I wouldn't be having this nightmare, dreaming of him disappearing in a cloud of dust. Maybe speaking to Pepper of Thanos, what could've been, if he had succeeded, would I even know Bucky?

My eyes scan my surroundings, Bucky's old clock reads around 3am, I missed dinner, I don't feel hungry at all, maybe full, bloated, nauseous if anything.

Nothing in me can bring my feet to the floor, instead my arms grasp tightly onto Bucky's pillow and I let myself calm down before trying to fall back to sleep.

Deep breathes, exhaling for five, holding it for five, inhaling for five, eventually my heart rate seems to to slow to normal, and the counting has brought me out of my panic.

When I wake again it's like a weight has been lifted from my shoulders, no more nightmares, for today at least.

I feel safer in the daylight, the clock ticking away beside my head reads just past seven in the morning. The room is quiet besides the clock, I don't hear birds outside from in Bucky's room, I don't hear people mindlessly chattering, just pure silence.

No one will likely be awake yet, perhaps Morgan? She's normally awake by now? But perhaps it's just a little too early to check?

Bucky's bed feels like both a safe haven and a pit of doom as I think of his cold body from my dream. Goosebumps appear on my skin, my hair stands on end, I mentally joke to myself it's my spider sense, I don't want to admit that deep down I'm still terrified.

I gather Bucky's bedding and head down to the laundry, luckily he's pretty close to the end of the hall where we do the washing.

The warmth of the dryers is comforting, as is the smell of linen that fills the room and I find myself sitting in front of one of the machines scrolling through my phone, the pictures Happy had taken of my dads party are in my email, I hadn't bothered looking at them, but I find myself wishing he was here as I scroll through and take in our smiles.

Just come home and shout at me.

Why won't he let us know he's okay? Why won't he message and say something? Anything? Tell us who it is? What are they up against? Do they need help?

"Eden?"

My eyes shoot up towards the door, Peter is standing with his bed sheets in his arms, he looks amused to see me sat on the floor. "What are you doing?"

Uhhh...

"I'm just waiting for my sheets." I nod to the washing machine and he frowns and then smirks, even more amused, "aren't your sheets purple?"

The black fabric on cue slaps against the clear plastic door as if mocking me.

Can I get away with saying it's just cause it's wet? Fabric gets darker when it's wet right?

No I can't pull that off.

I sigh heavily, I can't bullshit, and why do I feel I need to?

"They're Bucky's." I put my head in my hands, I guess I see how it's amusing. To Peter at least.

Peter smirks and puts his own sheets in another machine, "but Bucky isn't here..?" He opens the door for the conversation I'm dreading and wedges it wide open.