Stucky Halloween: 2020

The Tick

The tick of the clock used to lead only to red memories and forgotten dreams, but Bucky learned to appreciate the simplicity of the sound, and assuredness.

Every day at 12:00 the clock would chime, he would spend another twenty minutes washing his hands and scrubbing away bad memories of blood, then rinse with cool water. At 12:30 he would start preparing lunch; sometimes Steve was over to help.

12:43 and today it was a grilled cheese sandwich and soup, a classic, easy enough to make. The clock echoed in his ears and 1:10 he was clearing his plate and scrubbing his hands after the dishes.

Sometimes Bucky forced himself to sit in the silence of the ticking clock. He sat on the couch and stared at the floor, the wall, Steve's sketchbook left idly open on a chilly afternoon, his red hands. And he thought.

Sometimes he preferred not to think, as many people had decided not to do; he often commented this to Steve after a night of casual internet surfing. Most times he would test the waters of reflection and see how far he could push himself, mentally.

He generally only did that on days Steve or Sam decided to swing by -- he would take all the support he could get.

Today at 2:03 Bucky was focused on his watch, and watched the small hands spin their casual dance across the face of the clock. The ticking, barely perceptible, was a constant; Bucky liked those. In a life wrought with disaster, wrecking havoc and general pandemonium, he liked to rely on certain assurances.

The tick of the clock was one. The presence and support of Steve Rogers was another all together.

Before Steve and Sam had helped Bucky, the ticking of the clock promised pain -- they challenged him to view it another way, so that's what he'd worked on. Sam was a saint, saved them both in so many ways he didn't even know. And Steve... well, he was always there for Bucky. The connection they shared was one nobody else would understand.

See, Bucky didn't believe in the concept of soulmates, per se -- found family, and he'd say, and he'd found his with Steve Rogers.

Bucky's favourite ticking of the clock came around 5:15, when Steve stumbled home from work and across the hall to Bucky's own apartment. He'd give him a smile, a "hey, Buck", and usually a hug if Bucky prompted it. (He used to get embarrassed about expressing that -- now he simply asked and Steve usually obliged).

Not today, though. Today was a little slow, had a few mental ups and downs but that was okay because the clock was ticking and Bucky's heart was still beating, and he would be okay.

It was 8:26 at night when the text arrived: "Hey, Buck, hope you had a good day :) wanna swing by maybe 10:00 tomorrow for breakfast? Nat's coming too, love for you to be there" -- Steve Rogers.

Bucky smiled and assured his response: "Sure Steve, see you then 😚🤭🤡🥳", because he was ninety-seven, godd*mn it, he was allowed to use whatever emojis he wanted and it was okay.

The ticking of the clock was a comfort as he got into bed and reflected. He hadn't done nearly as much today as he'd wanted, but that was fine -- there would be good days, there would be some not as good. Either way, he was going to keep pushing onward, waking up, being better and existing.

He smiled and fell asleep listening to the calming ticking of the clock, beating to the pulse of life and promising better things on the horizon.

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No proofreading, 10:30 at night let's goooo! Sorry if this is not coherent, I refused to be another day late 😅