(because PTSD bucky makes my heart ache)

It was late at night, and the storm outside was howling, rain beating at the windows in Y/n's apartment. It hadn't stormed like this in a long time.. she almost forgot how much she hated them. It was keeping her more than awake.

She had always hated storms. Always. Ever since she was a little girl. They made shivers roll through her, set her on edge. Every single one of her nerves was firing in overdrive, and there was nothing she could do about it. Nothing had ever happened to her to make her hate them, she just... did. The roaring thunder, the dangerous crack of lightning, the torrential rain pounding on the roof. It was awful. Which was why she also couldn't sleep.

She had tried to sleep for hours beforehand, hoping maybe she could ignore it. Maybe it would stop, and all would be well. Back to normal. It was almost 3 in the morning now, and it was raining hard as ever. Hooray.

She sat on the couch, staring mindlessly out the windows, watching the rain. She had nothing better to do... the power was out. And on a night like this, it made her even more on edge than before.

She cradles a hot mug of her favorite tea to possibly help calm her down. She had even lit some of her favorite candles. Normally during things like this she had someone with her... but it wasn't like that this time. She was completely and utterly alone. She didn't like thinking about it.

Sometimes she wondered if her neighbors had problems like this, sitting awake at night during storms. Probably not. It wasn't exactly a rational fear that she had. She takes a long sip of her tea, relishing in the way it feels as it coats her throat. It was the type of soothing she could use right now. She could also use a hug, but she didn't have anyone for that just yet.

She had been alone in this apartment forever, bringing people home but never quite finding someone she wanted to stay with for more than a night. That was until Bucky Barnes waltzed right into her life and turned her world on its axis.

He was so much more to her than she thought he would be at first. He was quiet when they first met, at a café with Natasha in the fall. He was one of her friends she had told Y/n "needed to get out more." Y/n had assumed she said the same about her to Bucky too.

He had been very polite but not much of a talker. And even then, Y/n had been captivated by him. She wasn't quite sure if it was the dark hair or the piercing blue eyes or that gorgeous metal arm... but she always assumed it was a combination of all three.

The three of them had talked for what seemed like hours, mostly Y/n and Nat though. He would chime in sometimes, his voice both rough and smooth at the same time. He would even smile sometimes... god what a smile. She liked it way more than she liked to admit. And he was funny... and oh so charming. She sometimes likes to imagine just how charming he was back in the 40's like Nat had said he used to be.

They'd talked some since then, but only at mutual functions with friends and such. She hadn't really seen him since Tony's new years party a few weeks ago, which disappointed her just a little. She found herself really enjoying when he was around. So she was more than thrilled when he moved into the apartment across the hall.

No doubt Nat had showed him the listing when it came up, Y/n knew she liked to play matchmaker for her. This was surely the farthest she'd gone with it though. He moved in quietly during the day, and when Y/n came home from work that day she had nearly dropped her keys. They'd been talking since then occasionally in the hall, friendly smiles and short but nice conversations. She enjoyed it a lot. She enjoyed him a lot.

A quiet knocking on her apartment door brings her out of her thoughts. It was in the earliest hours of the morning... who in the hell could that be? She stands slowly and puts her cup of tea down, tugging on a sweater and walking to the door. When she opens it, she finds the object of her thoughts himself.

Bucky Barnes, looking rough. His hair was pulled back in a messy bun, his eyes bloodshot. He had dark circles worse than she had seen in a long time. He was wearing a worn t-shirt and sweatpants, his feet bare. How did he still look so damn good?

He was shifting from foot to foot nervously it seemed. Her eyebrows crease with concern.

"Bucky? Is everything alright?" She asks slowly. He looks at her as if he were a puppy abandoned on the street. It almost breaks her heart seeing him this way. Confident, stoic Bucky Barnes, looking so conflicted and frightened.

"Can... can I come in?" He asks quietly, his voice sounding broken and scratchy, as if he had been crying. She never seen him this way before, and it startled her. She nods quickly, opening the door for him. He steps inside, looking around before looking back at her again. She closes the door behind both of them, turning to him as well.

"Here, have a seat... Do you want some tea?" She asks and he slowly nods.

Y/n walks into the kitchen and pours some into a mug for him. She was bewildered beyond anything she ever imagined she'd be at 3 in the morning. Bucky Barnes just showed up on her doorstep wanting to come inside. She didn't quite know what to do, but she'd roll with it.

He was sitting on her couch, staring down at his hands. The candle lights flicker, casting a yellow glow across his face. Y/n kind of hated how good he still looked, despite the crease in his brow and his disheveled hair.

She returns to him and hands him the hot cup of tea, which he takes gratefully. She sits down tentatively on the couch next to him, folding her legs underneath her and giving him a good amount of space so he'd be comfortable.

"Is everything okay, Bucky?" She asks again, both her voice and expression concerned. He doesn't meet her eyes.

When he speaks she was surprised.
She hadn't expected him to.

"I uh... I don't like storms. They remind me of things I don't want to remember." He mumbles, taking a sip of his tea. They had something in common then.

"And I normally would call Steve and he'd come to sit with me or something but he's out on a mission and I'm really sorry if I'm bothering you because I could go-" he starts to ramble, but she holds up her hand gently to calm him.

"No, don't be sorry. I don't mind at all." She says with a gentle smile. He relaxes at her words. She continues to talk to maybe help ease his mind.

"I don't like storms either. Never have, ever since I was a little kid. Not sure what it is, but-"

A loud crack of thunder makes her jump, a tiny yelp sounding from her lips. She almost drops her tea in her lap. He looks at her with wide eyes, his expression unreadable. She takes a deep breath.

"I'm... I'm sorry. I didn't mean to... to do that..." she stutters nervously, her cheeks flushing red. He understood though. He knew what that felt like, jumping in fear at every boom of thunder. It reminded him of war and death and his time as a human weapon. He never wanted to remember that, but he did. And it scared him.

"No... no it's okay. I do the same thing... haven't liked storms since the war." He admits. He had never told anyone that... not even Steve. It was baffling him how he just suddenly felt so comfortable admitting something so personal to her. He hardly knew her, but he knew that somehow he wanted to be around her. Or at least near her.

Her heart almost melts.

"Bucky... I'm sorry... is there anything I can do to help?" She mumbles, inching a little closer to him. She wanted to get so much closer, but she wasn't sure if he would be okay with that. Not right now. Little did she know she couldn't have been more wrong. He wanted to hold her so bad right now, it was driving him crazy.

He starts to shake his head, but is quickly interrupted with possibly the loudest thunder they had heard all night. It shook the windows. She jumps and instinctively clings onto his metal arm, not realizing at first. He looks to her with surprise at first, but he didn't care. He wanted her near.

Y/n notices after a few moments and looks up to him in pure embarrassment. She couldn't believe she just did that.

"Shit, Buck, I'm so-"

"No, don't be. I... I don't mind." He murmurs to her. She blushes, but doesn't move. She stares at him, watching the warm candle light flicker across his face. She still couldn't read his expression.

Slowly but surely, he takes her hand in his metal one, lacing their fingers together. Despite everything, it made her want to smile anyway.

"This is always easier to get through with someone here with me." He says, and she leans her head against his shoulder cautiously.

"Then I'll stay here with you. For as long as this storm is going on." She says. He already felt better.

And she did. All night long, until they fell asleep in each other's arms there on her couch.

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