Death Where is Your Sting? - B. Barnes

Chapter 13

** Trigger warning: Implied sexual assault in the second section of the chapter. I don't write anything graphic, but please don't read if it bothers you. I'll put a note at the bottom to summarize if you prefer to skip. The next chapter is lighter. Everyone needs a break after this.

Something had shifted since their fight. Bucky and Ray had grown closer in the days that followed, and neither quite knew what to do with their feelings.

Ray still didn't like the idea of being touched, but when she'd wake from a nightmare, she found herself longing to be comforted by Bucky. She'd begun resting on his shoulder, laying her head in his lap. She didn't know why, but she always seemed to relax around him, falling asleep against him almost nightly. Feeling safe. Protected.

Bucky knew she was afraid of herself, for a whole host of reasons, so he did his best to reassure her. Make her laugh. Show her she could be loved.

Like four days ago, when it had snowed. Ray was still unwilling to be out of the apartment, afraid the Power Broker or some associate might be searching. Bucky had swamped her tiny form in his jacket, a scarf and hat, laughing at how ridiculous she'd looked. She'd tried to cross her arms in anger, but the sleeves of the coat were so long that she couldn't get her arms wrapped properly. Bucky had laughed even louder and she'd smacked him with the jacket sleeve. Then he took her up the fire escape to the top of the building. He'd started a snowball fight, though Ray quickly grew frustrated when she couldn't make a snowball in his giant coat. She'd chosen instead to tackle him to the ground, and they'd laid there, Ray curled into his side, catching snowflakes on her tongue, until she'd grown too cold to feel her toes.

Or a week ago, when he'd bought clothes and a cookbook for her. While she modeled the clothes for him, she commented that they largely resembled his wardrobe - jeans, a lot of black, and a leather coat. He blushed when she asked what possessed him to buy the frilly undergarment she'd found in the bag and he confessed he'd been so intimidated by the store that he'd given the saleswoman his credit card and told her to charge it for whatever a woman would need - and she'd laughed. She spent the rest of the day with her nose in the cookbook. The next day she'd pushed him out the door with a list of ingredients so fast his head spun. She'd cooked recipe after recipe, culminating in a five course dinner with his favorite - apple pie - for dessert. Her smile was so big and bright, proud of her accomplishment. Bucky didn't think he'd ever seen such a beautiful smile, and he'd told her so. She'd blushed, fanning herself and claiming the oven had made the apartment too hot. Bucky just grinned.

Or yesterday, when she told him she'd never danced. He'd leapt off the couch to his record player - which she'd teased him relentlessly for having - and he'd taught her to jitterbug, fox trot, and jive. They'd collapsed in a heap, laughing and breathing hard, and Ray had curled her face into his neck to stem her laughter, having been unable to take Bucky seriously with his 40s jargon and pickup lines. When she'd swatted at him after telling her "you know you love me", he'd wrapped his arms around her and rolled to toss her on top of his chest. She'd giggled, and to Bucky's pleasant surprise, she'd grabbed onto his arms and then wrapped her own around his neck. Bucky told her he'd like to take her on a proper date some day, if she'd have him, and she'd replied that it sounded lovely. Tension filled the air, and they'd drawn closer, noses touching. Until he'd told her she was the most beautiful dame he'd ever laid eyes on and she burst into laughter again.

Their days were lighter, less focused on their problems, more focused on each other. Until it all came crashing down.

Sam had called. There was a recon mission in upstate New York related to the Power Broker, and he needed Bucky to go with Torres. Ray didn't like it, and she didn't want to be left behind. But his promise of being home that night and his role as a lookout had her relenting, albeit reluctantly. She had still stolen Bucky's phone and told Sam she'd burn him from the inside out if anything happened to Bucky. No one doubted she could do it, but Sam had promised nothing would happen to the "petrified rock" she lived with.