Every damn night the visions came to him, slowly leaking into his brain until he was sitting up ramrod straight, drenched in sweat and throat raw from screams. The first few nights he was alone, he called Steve and talked to him until he felt calm enough to go to sleep again. But after about a week or so, a nagging voice in the back of his head told him that Steve was tired of listening to his problems. The man needed to get some sleep. So, Bucky was left to suffer in silence. That is until the girl next door started leaving him little presents. It started out small, a hot cup of coffee. She’d knocked, and he wanted more than anything to open the door. But that little voice in the back of his head told him don’t, she was a stranger, what if she couldn’t be trusted, et cetera. He waited until he heard her go into her apartment before gingerly opening the door. There, on the floor in front of him, was a steaming cup full of goodness. He picked it up and shut the door behind him. For a few seconds Bucky just stood there holding the cup, debating on whether or not to drink it—what if the cup was poisoned? He threw caution to the wind, thinking that dying would be a good thing, and took a giant swig.
It was the sweetest damn thing Bucky ever tasted. He tipped the cup back and drank the remaining coffee in about three gulps. The warmth flooded through his body and for the briefest second he forgot about his trouble. What he was. What he’d been. He had to do something to repay his neighbor for the kindness she had shown him. Bucky knew absolutely nothing about his neighbor, only that she worked odd hours and apparently, she was quite kind. So once he was finished with the coffee, he washed the cup and placed it outside her apartment door before going back to sleep.
This continued on for a good three or so weeks—her leaving something for him, and he grabbing it once she’d retreated back into her apartment. Once she even brought him Whiskey—something he hadn’t had in ages. Even though they never spoke or even saw each other, Bucky felt like he had a friend. Like he wasn’t completely alone in the world.
One night, he felt well enough to go to bed early. That was a big mistake. As soon as his eyes shut the nightmares started. He tossed and turn, trying to fight them off to no avail. Bucky came too, as he always did, screaming so hard he thought his head was going to explode. Just beneath the sounds of the screams, he could hear someone knocking on his door. Coffee girl. He couldn’t explain it, but something inside him compelled him to answer the door. To see a face other than Steve’s. Bucky swung his legs over the side of the bed and headed across the apartment, gently nudging the door open and peering out.
There she was, a concerned look on her face and a steaming mug in her hands. She was gorgeous, Bucky could say that much. She had tawny skin and night colored hair, and the deepest brown eyes that he had ever seen. He could tell that she was surprised he’d opened the door—and to be honest, he was surprised too. “Uh, hello… I’m Bucky. Sorry I woke you up,” He spoke sheepishly, running a hand through his unruly hair. Bucky was sure he looked like a deranged lunatic, but this girl was taking it all in stride. When she offered someone to talk to, he was floored. It had been ages since he’d talked to anyone other than Steve. “You know what? Yeah, you could say I’m having a rough night. I could use somebody to talk to. Come in.”
--
Ever since the implosion of SHIELD, Scarlett remained close with her former boss. They often checked up on each other, even getting lunch and filling each other in on their lives. Director Fury was one of the few people that she trusted with her life. So, when he called and said that he had a job for her, she jumped on it. “Fantastic, I’ll see you tomorrow morning at around ten. Be ready.” And he hung up. She was a little apprehensive due to not getting much information, but the brunette figured that Fury would never again put her in a position to lose her life. So Scarlett shook the worries off and headed to bed, making sure to set her alarm so she would have time to get ready in the morning. She seemed to wake up almost as soon as she went to sleep, groaning at the sound of her alarm. It had been forever since she had to set an alarm clock, so needless to say her body wasn’t used to being forced to wake up. Scarlett got out of bed and padded across her apartment to the bathroom, shedding her pajamas and hopping into the warm spray. She was out in about ten minutes, and quickly blow dried her hair. While she waited for her flat iron to warm up, the former agent headed back to her bedroom to get dressed. Fury didn’t tell her what kind of job this was, so Scarlett opted for a nice pair of dark blue jeans and a black and red flannel button up shirt, paired with simple ballet flats. Once she was dressed she headed back to the bathroom to straighten her hair. After that, Scarlett quickly threw on some makeup and no sooner than when she finished, she heard a knock on her apartment door. She shut the light off in her bathroom and headed toward the front door, opening it.
“Agent Reed, you’re looking well.” Director Fury spoke, nodding in greeting. Scarlett nodded as well, stepping to the side. “Thank you Director, please come in. Can I get you a cup of coffee or anything like that?” She asked, leaning against the wall. Fury nodded negatively, waving her question away. “No, I’ll be fine. I want to thank you for agreeing to take this job without any briefing beforehand.” He spoke as he sat down at her kitchen island.
“Well, I’ll admit that I was a little bit wary about taking it, especially not knowing anything, but I trust you and your judgement. But would you mind at least telling me a little something before we go, so I’m not walking in blind?” Scarlett questioned. The not knowing had been killing her, and she couldn’t wait anymore. She had to know just exactly what she was doing. “Alright, I’ll tell you. You remember Mister Stark?” Fury began. Of course she remembered Tony. Scarlett loved his dry sense of humor, but loathed how he looked at her and her other female agents as pieces of meat. “Well, he really hasn’t been himself lately,” he continued. “Miss Potts left him a few weeks ago, and he moved back up to New York. He’s just lost it. Constantly drinking, he’s become a damn recluse! Anyway, I’m rambling. Scarlett, here’s what your mission is. I want you to look after Tony. Make sure he’s eating, not drinking too much, getting sleep… basically, make sure he doesn’t kill himself. Do you think you can do that for me?”
Scarlett had been shocked into silence. The untouchable Tony Stark, now a shell of his former self? She knew what it was like to lose everything, so she could sympathize.
“Of course I can, director.” She spoke, grabbing her coat from the back of her door. “Let’s go.”
March 16th, 2017 at 06:16am