reader was a highly skilled neuropsychologist who worked for what used to be SHIELD. a couple days after the bombing in vienna, her friend and coworker, sharon carter, asks a favor of her: to relocate to wakanda in order to help treat and rehabilita...
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It was quiet in her apartment, the kind of middle-of-the-night quiet that makes the air feel pleasant and calm because you can feel that the rest of the world is asleep.
Light from the city shown softly on the floor in front of the window. But it didn't make it to the couch, providing the comfort of darkness to the two sleeping there.
They had fallen asleep while talking — somehow having moved past the thing with the vodka and then the thing with her head. She would've stayed there taking all night if sleep hadn't taken them both.
Bucky fell asleep sitting up, his head leaned back and resting on the cushion behind him. She had been sitting to the side of him but on the other end of the couch. However, once both of their eyes were droopy and their voices slowed, she ended up leaning forward and laying down, with her head just a couple inches from Bucky's outer thigh.
In his sleep, (or maybe not) his hand ended up resting on her head, right past her forehead. And perhaps he woke up once or twice and allowed himself, ever so gently, to stroke the hair that lay under his palm.
But he did then fall back asleep. He wasn't aware of when she started to stir in her sleep. He didn't notice when her face began to distort into pain, anger, sadness, or some mix of the three. He didn't see her breathing pick up or her skin become clammy.
He did, however, wake the hell up when he heard the guttural gasp accompanied by the mini convulsion of the couch cushion. He turned to the sight beside him. Even though she was sitting up and facing away from him, he could see the turbulent movements of her chest that by her ragged breathing provoked.
Immediately he was scared. Not of her, of course, but for her. He's seen her upset before, but never anything like this. Never anything... like he used to do. But he needed to be calm. He needed to be solid. Just as she used to be for him.
He called out her name, making sure his voice didn't waver.
Her shoulders tensed up, startled. Her head whipped towards him. She jerked back but her erratic movements caused her to slip off the couch. Knees and shins struck the hardwood.
In a flash, Bucky stood up, but then crouched down once he saw the look on her face.
"Don't! Don't-"
"I'm sorry!" he put his hands up in front of him. Then hushed his voice. "I'm sorry. You're safe. It's safe, I swear on my life."
She looked at him with wide eyes and tear stained cheeks. He felt awful, and he wondered how she felt when she took care of him after night terrors.
