#no bec im exited for some of these show but this one... idk how to explain it

[hsfavoriteworlds]

Guys guys guys.... if ticket to heaven is done right, it's gonna destroy me but the thing is, can we really trust gmmtv with it? 😭

[wienerbarnes]

Are You Growing?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (Cheek to Cheek) Word Count: 1,886 Warnings: mentions to alzheimers A/N: idk about yall but im loving posting about the earlier times w bucky n reader

MAIN MASTERLIST | CHEEK TO CHEEK MASTERLIST

You sit on Bucky’s couch, Alpine curled up in your lap, purring softly with closed eyes as you lightly scratch behind her ears.

Bucky’s sitting on the floor in front of you, in the place of where his coffee table used to be, which is now pushed into the corner for the time being. He rereads the instructions to put together his new bookshelf for the eleventh time now, still not understanding where exactly to put each screw.

You were no help to him, your first suggestion was to toss out the instructions and build to his heart’s desires; whatever felt right.

The last thing he needs, though, is for his bookshelf to collapse in the middle night and scare the shit out of him, so he tries his luck with the instructions.

He’s grateful for the ring of his cellphone, perhaps a break for a phone call will somehow make the instructions easier to read.

His stomach drops when he sees the caller ID as Rebecca’s retirement place. He pushes down his nausea and answers the phone.

“Hello? Is Rebecca okay?” He answers, quickly standing and moving to another room, not missing when your eyes look up at the sound of his sister’s name.

Is Rebecca okay? Did she hurt herself? Did she hurt one of the nurses? Is she dead?

“Hi, Bucky. Yes, Rebecca’s okay,” The receptionist Bucky’s gotten to know well responds, causing him to let out a sigh of relief, “She’s asking for you, is all. She’s… not eating. She didn’t touch her breakfast or lunch, she just keeps asking when you’re coming. I know you don’t normally come until tomorrow, but I promised her I’d call you.” She finishes explaining.

“Uhm… okay, okay. Tell her I got hung up at work and that I’ll be over as soon as I can.” He tells her, sparing a glance into the other room to see you peeking at the instructions on the ground.

“You’re amazing Bucky, thank you.” She responds, and all he does is hum through his anxiety before hanging up, returning to the living room where you sit.

You look up at him as if to ask if he is okay and he only stares back for a few seconds, thinking, before deciding, “Put your shoes on, we gotta go somewhere.” He tells you, voice still a little shaky from the scare of that phone call.

You don’t question it, recognizing that it’s probably not the time, and move to go grab your shoes by the door. Bucky silently pushes out air through his mouth, an attempt to calm himself down and get the nausea to go away. Rebecca’s okay, he reminds himself, she’s having a bad day, but she’s okay.

You’re worried at how quiet Bucky is and with how fast he speeds on his bike down a route you don’t really recognize. Finally, though, you see the sign in the distance, St. Francis Alzheimer’s Hospital, and you understand.

He parks the bike out front and turns it off, not yet moving, and you take off his helmet you’re wearing to get a better look at him. You say his name when you notice tears have gathered in his eyes; you’ve never seen him cry before.

“Sorry,” He wipes his eyes, “This shit is just so… exhausting. Everytime the phone rings, everytime I come here, I don’t know what I’m going to get, if she is okay.” He vents before letting out a long sigh.

You don’t know how to respond, choosing to rub his back as he composes himself. Bucky’s always been a tough rock; always knowing what to say, what to do, always knowing how to take care of everyone and how to solve everyone’s problems. You’ve never seen him so tired, so nervous before, and you see the toll doing this has taken on him.

Before you can say anything, he stands, “Let’s go.” He holds out a hand to help you off the bike and rests the helmet on the seat, knowing no one’s going to take it.

You follow quietly behind him as he enters and greets the receptionist, walking past the desk and down the hall. You feel out of place, not only here, in the retirement place Bucky’s sister lives at, but in public. You’ve barely left the apartment while you’ve been in hiding; you think this is the most amount of people you’ve been around in months.

Bucky approaches a door and knocks quietly before entering, “Hey, troublemaker,” He calls out, voice no longer strained or shaky as it’s been for the half hour, as though he flipped a switch to make himself normal again.

“Bucky!” You hear an excitement-filled elderly voice call out.

You enter to see her sitting on the bed, arms reaching out for Bucky to embrace him in a hug.

“Sorry, I’m late, I got caught up at the gym.” He tells her, hugging her back.

“Oh, I didn’t know you were at work, I just wanted to talk to you about the carnival, it’s coming this weekend.” You notice Bucky’s jaw clench for a second before loosening.

“It is, isn’t it. I’ll get Steve and we’ll all go together, I know how much you love the rides there.”

You linger by the door still, observing the interaction. How Bucky plays along so perfectly and so composed. You tense when you notice that Rebecca’s eyes have found you.

Bucky follows her gaze and snaps his head to you, “Becca, this is a friend of mine.”

You walk over and hold your hand out, giving your name, and she reaches out and accepts it, giving you a gentle smile, “A friend, huh?”

“Bec -”

“I’ve heard a lot about you, it’s really great to finally meet you.” You tell her.

“Well, it’s lovely to meet you, too, I haven’t met one of Bucky’s friends in a while,”

“Rebecca -”

“Who was that floozy you brought home once, the one that Mama hated?” She teases Bucky, who now stands with arms crossed looking at you take a seat in the chair next to Rebecca’s bed.

“That was Madeline.”

“Madeline! My goodness, she didn’t last very long at all -”

“How about we talk about something other than my love life? Are you hungry, Bec?”

“A little bit.” She responds, and Bucky feels relief flood through his body. He nods and leaves the room to go fetch her lunch from one of the nurses.

“I love these flowers on your shirt.” Rebecca compliments, snapping your eyes away from the door Bucky exited out of and back to hers. They’re the same blue as Bucky’s.

You glance down at your shirt, one you thrifted with lilac’s all over them.

“Thank you, they’re, uh, lilacs. They symbolize growth. Like, change from ignorance to knowledge, innocence to wisdom, and all that.” You tell her.

She hums, “And are you?”

“Am I what?”

“Growing?”

You pause to think about it. Have you grown? Changed?

“Yes. I think so.” You respond.

“Well, then I’m happy for you.” She says sincerely.

You feel a knot swell in your throat at the validation, being greatly reminded of Bucky in that moment, and it’s then that he returns with a tray of food, a bowl of fruit, and a glass of juice.

Bucky places the tray on the small table that can swing over her bed, cutting the food on the plate for her small pieces, before moving to the fruit and juice, taking both lids off for her.

You watch as he takes gentle care in moving the tray closer to her, piling small pieces of food onto a spoon before feeding it to her.

She clears about half the plate before saying she’s full, which is more than enough for Bucky to be satisfied; it’s better than this morning.

Whatever problem there seemed to be this morning that caused Bucky to come over here in a rush is gone. To you, it was like his presence was the only thing she needed to feel better; it’s like there wasn’t anything wrong in the first place.

Soon enough, the two of you leave, with a promise from Bucky that he’ll see her tomorrow on Thursday and they’ll go to the carnival this weekend.

You don’t mention anything else about the visit to Bucky the entire way home, and choose to help him on the floor of his living room for the rest of the evening instead.

Thursday and Friday pass, and Bucky goes to Steve’s on Saturday.

“Remember that girl I told you about? The one I’ve sort of become friends with? That I’ve been looking out for?” Bucky stirs sugar into his coffee, his sweet tooth showing up more frequently since he’s been hanging out with you.

“I remember.” Steve says, sitting down next to him at his table with his own cup of coffee. Steve’s is decaf, though.

“I, uh… I took her to meet Rebecca.” Bucky doesn’t meet his eyes, waiting to see what his reaction will be.

“Oh?” Steve responds, setting his mug down and resting his aged hands on the table, paying all attention to Bucky now.

“There was a situation on Wednesday, Becca wasn’t eating and she was at my apartment -”

“At your apartment?”

“So, I just took her with me -”

“You haven’t even taken Sam to meet Rebecca.” Steve tells him, making Bucky stop.

He pauses for a moment before continuing, “When I saw Bec on Thursday, she remembered her.”

Steve’s head tilts, processing his words.

Bucky continues, “I went to go see Bec on Thursday, and she asked me about her, apparently they talked about some flowers and she wanted me to bring her some so she can see them in person. Asked when I was going to bring her to see her again.” He finishes explaining.

“Wow.” Is all Steve says.

“Rebecca… doesn’t remember anything. I mean she remembers me and you, but she barely remembers anything she and I talk about when I visit, barely remembers her kids. But she remembered talking about lilacs with this girl she’d never met before!” Bucky says, still in disbelief.

“...Must be something special about her.”

“Oh, don’t you start now, too.”

“Just saying. Maybe you should bring her here sometime.”

“Nah, I didn’t even plan to take her to see Becca. That was a risk all by itself, taking her out in public like that.” Bucky glances up to see Steve smirking at him with that stupid wrinkled mouth of his.

“Stop looking at me like that, would you, punk?!”

Steve chuckles, “She sounds like a sweet girl.”

“She’s my friend, Steve.”

“I didn’t say she wasn’t.”

“But you’re implying -”

“Implying what? What are you thinking?”

Bucky huffs and rolls his eyes, Steve twisting his words around, and he realizes he won’t escape this conversation without teasing.

“Whatever. She’s just a friend. If that. We just hang out sometimes, I help her do things that I had trouble with when I got out of HYDRA. I’m just around to help her.”

“Sure, pal. That’s nice of you.”

Bucky sighs, standing to go refill his coffee, and Steve smiles to himself, glad that Bucky’s met someone like you, and glad to see where it’ll inevitably lead, even if the two of you don’t see it yet.