Edelweiss || Bucky x Reader

Chapter Eight

That promise doesn't last all that long, though. Just two weeks later and Bucky's sat up on a table while I stitch up a rather large cut on his chin.

"Ow- Ouch- Doll, would you quit poking me with that thing?" He hisses in pain.

"I'm almost done, just hold still." I say. "Ok, there. All patched up."

He pushes himself off the table. Gingerly, he runs his thumb over the stitches, but I pull his hand away.

"Don't touch those." I scold.

He playfully rolls his eyes as I shoo him out of the tent.

"Go on, soldier, move along." I laugh. "I've got work to do." He chuckles before saluting me and walking away.

I stand there smiling, staring at his back.

"Boo!" Says a voice right over my shoulder, making me jump. It's Lucy, of course.

"Lu! You can't do that to me-" I say turning to face her, seeing a knowing smirk on her face. "What?"

She cocks her head towards Bucky.

"Oh, you stop that." I chide lightly. 

She acts offended.

"I didn't say anything!" She says indignantly. I smile as she laughs. I really do have work to do though, so we part ways.

The gore is getting easier to stomach by the day. I've learned to keep myself distracted; counting, daydreaming— anything to make my mind see something other than what my eyes are telling it. And for the most part, it works. Today, however, my mind is on Steve. It's been three weeks to the day since I saw him last, and all I can do is hope he's ok. I'm terrified for him. In my head I write him letters, telling him all about what it's like being on the front lines, about Bucky, about Lucy— but mostly about how much I missed him. I never put them on paper, though. Where would I send it? Last I knew he was in Jersey, but I don't know where in Jersey or if he's still there. Even if I did, there's not enough paper to spare for how many words I'd put on each page.

Involuntarily, my mind starts to wander.

Bucky.

What are we? I sure as hell don't feel like his sister anymore. But what does that mean?

Are we...

Does he...?

No. No, he doesn't, and that's a stupid thought. He's just...protective, that's all. Yeah. He's always been protective, like when he taught me how to defend myself. After it happened. 

There was a man. He was young, 27, maybe 28. But he was a stranger and much older than I was. My commute to high school wasn't especially long, but I could only take the train so far. And so I had to walk.

He waited every day on the same street for me to pass by. It was bearable when all he did was catcall vulgar demands as I crossed him. But then he started following me. I changed my route but he was always there. After a month I'd had enough.

I asked Bucky to walk with me, and of course he said yes, but that didn't stop him. He tried to grab my arm once. Without missing a beat, Bucky had grabbed him by his collar and thrown him to the ground. He stared the man down and whispered, "Don't fucking touch her." It was one of the few times I had heard him swear. After that, the man left me alone, and Bucky made sure history would never repeat itself, spending hours teaching me how to protect myself. He made me feel competent, and powerful, and capable after so many mornings of feeling helpless.

He gave me a sense of security that I really never had before. My childhood was ripped away from me. Shit, I was an orphan whose legal guardian was my 18-year-old brother that looked three years younger than me. I had to handle food and rent as a child. Frankly, I had to become an adult early. I didn't have the luxury of safety. But I did with him. I always had. I still do.

He makes the fight worth it.

Maybe...

Oh my god, I really think I'm in lo-

"Hello...?" Someone says. I blink, my train of thought completely derailed.

"Oh, hey Buck." I say, with a tired smile.

"I've been calling for you, did you not hear me?"

"Oh... sorry." I say, walking out of the tents with him "I was just thinking about Steve."

And you

He sighs. "Yeah, me too." He says, lighting up a cigarette. "How'd today go?"

"Oh, alright I suppose. Not much different than the usual. Yours?"

He blows a puff of smoke over his shoulder. "About the same. Though I've got a busy couple of days ahead of me."

"And why's that?"

He grins at me. "Because we're storming a Hydra base."

My heart sinks. "Even with your chin? Shouldn't you be healing?" It's a weak excuse, but it's the best I've got.

"I just follow the orders." He says. We're already at my tent. He gives me a friendly hug. "I'll see you in a few days, ok?"

I nod. "Come back in one piece for me?"

He chuckles, looking down at me, his hands on my shoulders.

"I'll be back before you know I'm gone."

I smile gently.

"Of course you will."

And with that, we go to bed.