11: what's my name?

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     We weren't given much information past what was going on. We didn't know our end goal, what we needed to do or accomplish, and I swayed between the points of ignorance is bliss and unholy mother of all things hell-bound this is the end of the world.

There was a brief stint in the days that followed where I had panic attacks four to seven times a day. After my encounter with the new-to-me Damon, when my anxiety became a presence, I could barely leave bed without sobbing, but this time I was a little more stable. A little. I would wake up and Bucky would be in the bathroom and I'd start hyperventilating at the thought of him not being there. Bucky and Clint would discuss me going into spy situations where Bucky would be in combat, and I'd cry at the thought of him getting fatally hurt.

Bucky wasn't so great either. He didn't sleep too well. Months and months and months ago when he was still my captive and I was his caretaker, he never slept. He sat on the pillows, held his knees, and stared at the wall for eight hours. And he started that again.

But we weren't in those places anymore. We had each other. Not Winter and Agent Brookes. Husband and wife. Partners in crime. Literally. So we talked it out, and danced to Glenn Miller, and held each other until we fell asleep with Bucky's arms around me and head on my stomach, my hands in his hair and legs entwined with his. He was my safe place. He promised he'd come back and I did too.

The panic and sleeplessness didn't leave, but they dulled. We started sparring again, both with and without the use of Amygdala, and with and without his left arm behind his back. We went on runs with Clint and caught up on SHIELDS happenings. I told him about the organization and who created it, he told me he killed one of the founders and I hugged him as he fought anxious tears. We talked about the Avengers and their stories, and Bucky soaked up the stories of Steve since 2011. We talked about safe words and ear pieces and our purple baby, whatever his or her name would be.

I thought about all of this as I laid in bed one morning, looking out the window at the fighting blossoms on a tree. I was turned away from Bucky, who I thought was still asleep until he tapped me on the shoulder a few times. I rolled over as he sat up against the headboard, looking at me with a tired and puzzled look. I sat up and sat on his lap, taking his cheeks in my hands.

"Good morning," I smiled, pressing a kiss to his lips. We didn't do that often, kissing. It seemed we had forgotten we were allowed to. Whenever I remembered I tried to, kissing him slowly and softly, letting it be another reminder that I was there.

His hands rested on my lower back as he kissed me again. I laughed slightly at his eagerness until he pulled away, looking at me again with less tired in his face and more sadness and question.

I pushed his ever-growing hair back from his face, running my hands down his clean-shaven jaw and tilting his chin up. "What's wrong, my darling?"

His eyes narrowed a little. "Good morning . . . " He paused for a second as if trying to remember the next thing he wanted to say. His lips pressed together and he hummed before getting my name out, like a child. "Maisie."

I tilted my head to the side a little, straightening my back a little. Something seemed off.

"Was I wrong? Is that not your name?" He asked.

"No, no . . . You were right, it is." I studied him a bit more. "What's wrong?"

He pursed his lips, looked at my lips and back up to my eyes. He pushed my hair behind my ear until I gingerly grabbed his wrist and held his hand, repeating my question.

He opened his mouth a little, then shut it. "I-I forgot my name."

I went quiet. I pressed a kiss to his palm and smiled. "That's okay. You're James Buchanan Barnes. We call you Bucky."

"Bucky." He mumbled back. "I've never forgotten before."

I pressed a kiss to his nose. "But you might forget again. And I'll be here to remind you."

"Because you're the love of my life?" He smiles slightly.

"Because you're the love of my life, and I'll always be here for you." I smile, kissing him again.

"And I'll always show you how much you mean to me, Maisie Jo."




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