Bucky pulled into the motel parking lot and looked over at Lucy sound asleep. He had taken some back roads as well as the highway, trying to both find and lose any pursuers. There had been one car that seemed pretty determined to follow him, but they pulled off and a family stepped out to hug some grandparents out at a farmhouse.
It was now past 10 pm and he had located a run down looking motel on the outskirts of Atlanta, Georgia. About three hours into the five hour drive, Lucy had conked out, exhausted.
Bucky quietly turned off the car and pulled the key from the ignition. It would be safer if he woke her while he went in and got them a room for the night, but he couldn't bring himself to disturb her sleeping form. He popped the car door open and exited the vehicle as silently as he could. He walked in and got them a room for the night. He paid in cash and left the office as quickly as he arrived.
He quickly got back in the car and moved the vehicle a few spots down from their room. He didn't want to be parked in front of it if he could help it. Bucky looked over to see Lucy still sleeping soundly. He turned off the car again and made his way to the trunk. He grabbed his two bags as well as hers and flung them over his shoulder. He didn't bother grabbing their camping gear. They would probably have to dump it anyways.
Bucky shut the trunk and made his way to the front passenger side. He opened the door and looked down at a still sleeping Lucy. He gently unclicked her seatbelt, and slid his arms carefully underneath her legs and back, lifting her effortlessly into his arms. Even with the three bags and Lucy cradled in his arms he could have carried another person before he would feel bogged down by the weight. He made his way on sure feet to their motel room. He propped Lucy up on his knee when he got to the door, using his right hand to support her and his left hand to unlock the door and then open it.
The motel room looked run down with a full bed in the center pushed against a wall, facing a small TV. There was a door in the back leading to a bathroom, and a small mini fridge that looked thirty years old. The whole room was done in a sickly yellow coloring that came right out of the 80s.
Bucky walked into the room, then used his back to push the door closed. Lucy hadn't stirred throughout the whole process. He walked over to the bed and set Lucy down onto it. He then set their stuff down in the corner. He walked back towards Lucy and gently pulled her shoes off her feet. Once that was done he tugged the covers on the bed down on the side Lucy wasn't lying on until it was far enough down that he could gently roll Lucy over and tuck her in. She stirred slightly, but only enough to mumble something incoherent and curl into a tight ball under the covers.
Bucky looked down at Lucy all curled up and smiled. He couldn't help himself and leaned down to place a chaste kiss onto the top of her head. He knew Lucy wasn't his soulmate; she had another name tattooed on her inner thigh, and Bucky's own soulmate had been ripped from him. But he couldn't help but cherish the precious, innocent soul lying in front of him.
Bucky made himself back up from temptation. He went to his bag and grabbed out his tools to make a wire trap on the door. It wouldn't kill anyone but it would trigger a sound that would have Bucky up in an instant with a gun trained at the door.
Once that was done, Bucky took the opportunity to go use the restroom and take a shower. He hadn't had one in almost a week. He didn't like being naked and vulnerable, so he took them as little as possible.
He made it quick and was in and out under five minutes. He quickly donned some pants then lay down on the ground between the bed and the door. He would have preferred the bed. But he didn't trust himself with Lucy. He had to keep reminding himself that she wasn't his. That she belonged to another man. If he needed reminding he could just look at the name on her thigh. James Bucanen Barnes. Bucky wondered what kind of man James was. Would he be able to protect Lucy from whatever danger was tracking her? Was he good enough for her? Strong enough?
Lucy was such a kind-hearted and beautiful person. She seemed to make it her mission to get him to smile or engage with her. The game of twenty questions they had played earlier was a perfect example. She had been determined to challenge them both, even though it was painfully obvious Lucy was ten times better at the game than he was. She had guessed his pitifully easy animals like dog, cat, elephant, and so on, while he struggled with hers. She had picked a whale and that had stumped him for far more than twenty questions, but she had been beyond helpful with hints and so on.
And that song Lucy had been singing before he had switched off the radio. Something about not being able to keep your hands to yourself had nearly stolen his breath from jealousy. Just the thought of someone else's hands on her, or her hands on someone else, had made his blood boil. He had no right to feel that way. She belonged to James Bucanen Barnes, not Bucky the Winter Soldier. Barnes had better be good enough for her, otherwise Bucky might have commit another murder.
Bucky allowed his thoughts to drift, his left hand holding a loose grip on a handgun he had slid part way under the bed. Sleep took him with ease, and he slipped into a dreamless slumber.
*******
Lucy woke slowly, blinking her eyes blearily. She felt a bed underneath her, and blankets wrapped up to her chin. She shifted her body from her left side to her right and looked around the room with a sleep fuddled brain.
She was in a motel room that looked like it was straight out of the 80s. She saw their bags piled in a corner and tripwire on the door. The one thing she didn't see was Bucky.
Her heart rate increased. Where was he? Was he ok? What if something had happened to him? Lucy was suddenly wide awake and panicky. She moved the covers and maneuvered her body towards the right edge of the bed, the one closer to the door. She was about to put her feet on the ground when she looked down and saw Bucky lying on the floor, shirtless and asleep.
It was definitely an odd location for him to be. She had expected him to sleep on the bed, not the floor, but that was only a fleeting thought. The thing that caught her attention was his bare torso.
His muscles were beautiful and rock hard from years of using them, but what made her breath catch were the scars that riddled his form. All down his front, she saw bullet scars, stab wounds, and any other kind of scar you could imagine from battle. The scars were the worst on his lower abdomen where his soul mark had once been and around his left shoulder where the metal arm was attached. Her heart ached for Bucky. How could someone go through so much and survive?
Lucy moved as stealthily as she could and got off the bed on the other side from Bucky. She then tiptoed around the bed, dragging the comforter and pillow with her. She oh so gently draped the comforter over Bucky's sleeping form. She thought about attempting to lift Bucky's head and sliding the pillow behind it, but was too afraid it would wake him. Instead she tossed the pillow back on the bed and laid down beside Bucky, scooching herself under the comforter to snuggle against him.
She felt him jerk awake and froze, terrified she had made the wrong decision. They both stayed frozen for five seconds before she heard Bucky sigh and felt an arm wrap around her and pull her more securely into his side. Lucy relaxed and snuggled more comfortably into Bucky's warmth. His chest made the perfect spot to rest her head. His firm muscles and steady heartbeat comforted her like nothing else could.
She knew implicitly that Bucky would keep her safe no matter what. He had proven it, time and time again. It made her want to do the same for him.
Lucy lay comfortably in Bucky's arms, but she wasn't sleepy. She was that happy content, like when you get a long needed hug from a family member or a dear friend. It wrapped you up in not only a physical feeling of warmth and comfort but an emotional one as well.
If Lucy were a cat, she would be purring.
*******
Bucky stared at the ceiling, his right, flesh, arm wrapped around Lucy and his left still lightly gripping the handgun. He knew what he should do. He should put distance between himself and Lucy. Remind her she had a soul mate, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. The physical touch they shared was too important and rare for him to let it go.
Bucky craved physical touch, he had always been that way:
"Bucky! Bucky! Up! Up!"
