Chapter Forty Eight

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(Content warning: PTSD and vague descriptions of sexual assault)

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We wait for the bomb to explode.

It doesn't.

We wait longer.

It still doesn't.

"It's defective." I breathe with hardly any semblance of relief.

"Holy shit." Bucky says, equally breathless as his shoulders relax. "I'm calling bomb squad."

I spy the home phone sitting next to the TV and whisper, "I'm calling Steve."

I set the box down on the dining table as gently as I can out of caution and walk to the TV. Beside the phone sits a note pad with names and their corresponding numbers, three of which I recognize and then a few others I don't. Steve's number is first. I dial it with a shaking hand and put the phone to my ear.

It rings once, then twice, and I'm anxious he won't pick up. Then the third tone stops midway through, replaced by his voice.

"You've reached Steve Rogers, how can I help you?" He chimes.

Given different circumstances I'd laugh at his formality.

"Steve, it's me." I say, my voice matching my overall shaken demeanor.

He swallows.

"Everything ok, kid?"

"Y/N." I say quietly. "It's Y/N."

There's quiet for a split second while he processes. I know the situation is urgent, but I let him.

"...wait, do you mean?"

"Yeah." I say. "I...I'm me. But that's not why I called."

"Y/N, are you ok?" He asks, his voice taking it's characteristic drop in concern.

"No." I answer with no effort to sugar coat things. "You need to get over here."

"Give me 20." He says before hanging up.

...

I sit on the couch with my head in my hands as dozens of agents in tactical gear do what they need to with the failed attempt on Bucky and I's lives. Truthfully, I don't know what they're doing or why it's taking so long, just that they're loud and I want it to be over with. I feel the rapid tapping of my foot against the floor as I invest energy I don't have into staying calm. It's barely working.

"Would it help to wait in our room?"

Huh?

"Doll."

I lift my head, taking a breath. Bucky watches me as he leans against the wall. His arms are crossed over his chest, lips pursed together and eyes shone with concern. I shake my head.

"I duknow." I say quickly. He sighs.

"...ok, let's, uh..." He trails off hesitantly as he sits to the right of me.

This is a familiar feeling. The way my heart races and my thoughts scream over each other. I think this is part of who I used to be.

I take a breath. My hand finds his forearm and wraps around the cold silver. He slides his arm up so that my hand falls into his, interlocking our fingers. Then he brings our closed hands to his lips and lightly kisses my knuckles, holding my eyes. The icy feeling of his hand and the focus of his gaze help center me.

Edelweiss || Bucky x ReaderWhere stories live. Discover now