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Character: James "Bucky" Barnes &
Time period: Post-CA: TWS
Warnings: Obsessive Bucky on the loose.
At first, independence had seemed like one of his better ideas, but he had begun to revise his opinion once he had verified certain truths, taken noted of the factions searching for him, and realizing that the world was a wide landscape where a man could get lost. After he had rearmed himself from the bodies of two Hydra agents, a drug dealer, and a gang banger, he had come to realize that slipping away, hiding, being nothing at all was very easy, too easy.
He had been built on the foundation of a command structure for more than seventy years. Even before the blurred vagueness of falling, he knew order and military command. Aside from mashed up images, feelings and impressions, he knew that he had to have some manner of structure in his life. With no more commands down the line, he loitered, slipping through the shadows on Washington for awhile, finding the unsavoury places and people, leaving a few bodies in his wake and not particularly caring that they were found and televised either. A weapon bared he moved through the chaos at first because it was all he knew, listless for anything but the violence he had played a role in for so long. It lost it's purpose without the trigger of structure.
His world stagnated as he avoided those who hunted him, and he cared little for the lives he took when they found him. They came to command him because they thought he would simply bow to old standards, that he would go back to being his code name if they applied even electricity to his brain. They hadn't earned the right to command him. They were weaker than he, hadn't even survived a single encounter when he decided to throw his weight back at them. They were weak men, lost in words and hiding behind guns and dying in the shadows of buildings and trees.
Slowly, resolution began to form from the ashes of his lost command structure. He decided he would allow himself to be commanded again, that he yearned to be commanded by someone with the strength of both character and body to overtake him or at least bow him slightly with respect. Pierce had been like that, he reflected. The man hadn't needed to physically harm him to command his respect, though he remembered well being struck when he required the prompt. A few others had commanded a similar reaction deep in his guts, and his attention snapped over to them. One at a time, he decided. One searched, the other could be found if he looked.
He had been lost for a few months, considering leaving to go to Brooklyn for more pieces of an old puzzle, but he was drawn back into Washington because beating information out of a SHIELD agent had satisfied him that he would get what he wanted. As a ghost story, he knew that the only way to get proper attention was to do something not only obvious but dramatic. His depth of dramatic no doubt would be very different from others that he knew existed, but like a well-trained dog returning to his master, he knew how to get the attention that was needed to invite a recall command.
Hydra agents were not easy to find in large quantities in Washington anymore, most arrested or underground and hiding. It took him two days to find a nest of the vipers, using the old underground tunnels that he knew well. He'd ended them to prove he might not be under command, but it was something worth earning given his skills. Their bodies were left in obvious Hydra uniforms and symbols and piled high in front of the Smithsonian. As if the symbol of his loyalty degradation wasn't enough, none of the corpses had heads, and he had piled them in such a way that he could sit atop the whole mess and lounge there as obvious as the start of a new day.
Media and police were one thing, not that interesting, but he let them think they had command of him for a moment. Let them show his face around for SHIELD and Hydra and them to know he was here. Meaningless orders were ignored, people's reactions only earned a turning of his cheek in dismissal before he knew that the police presence would be a problem to slip away from. Instead he slipped from his lounging perch to ignore warnings and breaking into the Smithsonian because it suited him there. It seemed a fitting place to bow to the command of someone worthy.
Time period: Post-CA: TWS
Warnings: Obsessive Bucky on the loose.
At first, independence had seemed like one of his better ideas, but he had begun to revise his opinion once he had verified certain truths, taken noted of the factions searching for him, and realizing that the world was a wide landscape where a man could get lost. After he had rearmed himself from the bodies of two Hydra agents, a drug dealer, and a gang banger, he had come to realize that slipping away, hiding, being nothing at all was very easy, too easy.
He had been built on the foundation of a command structure for more than seventy years. Even before the blurred vagueness of falling, he knew order and military command. Aside from mashed up images, feelings and impressions, he knew that he had to have some manner of structure in his life. With no more commands down the line, he loitered, slipping through the shadows on Washington for awhile, finding the unsavoury places and people, leaving a few bodies in his wake and not particularly caring that they were found and televised either. A weapon bared he moved through the chaos at first because it was all he knew, listless for anything but the violence he had played a role in for so long. It lost it's purpose without the trigger of structure.
His world stagnated as he avoided those who hunted him, and he cared little for the lives he took when they found him. They came to command him because they thought he would simply bow to old standards, that he would go back to being his code name if they applied even electricity to his brain. They hadn't earned the right to command him. They were weaker than he, hadn't even survived a single encounter when he decided to throw his weight back at them. They were weak men, lost in words and hiding behind guns and dying in the shadows of buildings and trees.
Slowly, resolution began to form from the ashes of his lost command structure. He decided he would allow himself to be commanded again, that he yearned to be commanded by someone with the strength of both character and body to overtake him or at least bow him slightly with respect. Pierce had been like that, he reflected. The man hadn't needed to physically harm him to command his respect, though he remembered well being struck when he required the prompt. A few others had commanded a similar reaction deep in his guts, and his attention snapped over to them. One at a time, he decided. One searched, the other could be found if he looked.
He had been lost for a few months, considering leaving to go to Brooklyn for more pieces of an old puzzle, but he was drawn back into Washington because beating information out of a SHIELD agent had satisfied him that he would get what he wanted. As a ghost story, he knew that the only way to get proper attention was to do something not only obvious but dramatic. His depth of dramatic no doubt would be very different from others that he knew existed, but like a well-trained dog returning to his master, he knew how to get the attention that was needed to invite a recall command.
Hydra agents were not easy to find in large quantities in Washington anymore, most arrested or underground and hiding. It took him two days to find a nest of the vipers, using the old underground tunnels that he knew well. He'd ended them to prove he might not be under command, but it was something worth earning given his skills. Their bodies were left in obvious Hydra uniforms and symbols and piled high in front of the Smithsonian. As if the symbol of his loyalty degradation wasn't enough, none of the corpses had heads, and he had piled them in such a way that he could sit atop the whole mess and lounge there as obvious as the start of a new day.
Media and police were one thing, not that interesting, but he let them think they had command of him for a moment. Let them show his face around for SHIELD and Hydra and them to know he was here. Meaningless orders were ignored, people's reactions only earned a turning of his cheek in dismissal before he knew that the police presence would be a problem to slip away from. Instead he slipped from his lounging perch to ignore warnings and breaking into the Smithsonian because it suited him there. It seemed a fitting place to bow to the command of someone worthy.
there's going to be a new HP movie right?
She really didn’t think she could go ahead with that plan, but would that plan have its merits? Maybe if it was done differently, no, he will still be locked down as nothing more than an animal or worse, she didn’t want to force that on him. Slowly she took a deep breath and considered his offer. “Yes, please and thank you.” It made her feel a bit bad for accepting his offer, but this wasn’t exactly an order and she had made sure to make her response not look or feel like one, she wanted to break him out of that following orders mode.
Her fingers drummed against the bed for a moment. “She just mentioned something about some information she left me and that I’m clear for the moment, you on the other hand, there are images of you and we need to stay low for a bit just to be sure.” She wasn’t lying, she had said what she considered important, he didn’t needed to know about that other option.
I hope not but probably
He watched the tub fill, trying to decide on the level that would suit her best and mentally measuring her thickness and comparing it to the tub. For him, it was very important, a mission undertaken and performed to the best of his ability. Yet, there was something in her words that made him wonder what she had been thinking of previously.
"What information is that?" He reached over and turned off the water, testing its temperature before he eased back to stand in the doorway. "That was the point," he said softly. "I'm not a ghost anymore; I will be seen and reckoned with. Hydra can target me and leave you alone."
i think it was that thing about magical creatures
“About Hydra, of course, but apparently some of it won’t be useful anymore, some of it might be though, I need to read it and decide later.” She decided to omit that he had pretty much made most of that information obsolete now, but he was probably going to figure it out, even if she didn’t said it out loud. With a sigh she moved to sit up and stash the phone on the same drawer she had placed the file and the gun in, she wasn’t going to need it now and the phone was not going to work for Bucky. “You do realize we are together and that still makes me a target, I don’t think I will always stop being a target for them.”
I'll give that a miss I think
"Hydra will be a dying problem soon enough," he said simply as if he were talking about the weather. He knew that he had probably taken off most of the items on her list with his kills, the easiest information to find on Hydra after. There were darker secrets he would figure out soon enough. He watched her from the doorway that he had returned to, gaze flicking around the room before he simply watched her instead. "They won't be able to come near you with me around. They'll see me as the larger threat, and that's the way I want it." He shrugged and gestured towards the bathroom. "Your bath is ready."
Ditto but it brought the kind of dormant HP fandom back
And that was the end of the deal wasn’t it, she was their biggest threat and Bucky was a traitor pretty much, someone that needed to be killed for it. Slowly she stood up and smiled a bit at him. “Thank you.” She moved inside the bathroom and didn’t even bother to close the door, since what was the point, he was going to leave if he wanted it or not and he had seen her naked in the past, so it shouldn’t be such a big deal. Her clothes came off as easy as she had slipped them on, neatly folding them and placing them in the counter, and then allowing a small sigh to escape her lips when she got in the bathtub, the water was actually at the adequate temperature and she felt herself relaxing, her head resting against the wall and trying not to be tempted by just going ahead and drown herself here.
Which may or may not be a good thing
He waited until he had heard her sinking into the tub before he pulled the key out of his pocket and unlocked the door to the room he was given. He pushed open the door and stepped in two steps before ghosting out again and slipping into her room to investigate first in complete silence, taking his time and moving to the drawers were she no doubt at least had a weapon. There was the phone he had seen her put in there, and he was curious about that as well, just to see what numbers were in it in case he needed to make a nasty call himself at some point. Let her soak in the tub, he'd pretend to be trying on clothes and instead be looking for clues of what she did and didn't know.
since i haven't seen the fandom idk
She raised an eyebrow when she heard the jingle of keys and then what she thought was a door opening, she was quiet for a bit and went over her conversation with Bucky, added the new factors of this life, but probably some core aspects of his personality when it came to her were still present there, she was eerily quiet and barely heard the sound of a drawer opening before she sighed. “Stop going through my stuff, Bucky!” It seemed that habit hadn’t died then, he had always been curious when she had something to hide when they were living together and always took his chances when she wasn’t around to pry on whatever secret she wanted to keep from him, which had made keeping birthday present for him a dire nightmare.
I've been in it a bit and yeah.. scary
He hissed like a scalded cat at her shout from the bathroom, jumping nearly the roof and landing on his feet. He looked briefly into the drawer and slammed it home again with no more than a glance, not bothering to hide his presence as he left her room and went into his instead. He needed to work on snooping through her stuff more often, though... that folder had been written in Russian dialect. Why did she have a Russian file?
really? i don't check it since i was scared off from it
With a sigh she stood up and got out of the shower, thankful for the little mat there so she wouldn’t slip off and end break anything, the sensation of mending bones was just an awful thing. Slowly she rummaged around for a towel, quickly drying her off and then slipping a bathrobe while walking into the room and going to the drawer he had been checking, she was going to share the information with him anyway, she was after all sure it wasn’t something that he didn’t knew already and there were probably other blanks he might be able to fill up, the file had no information about him, all the files with that kind of information were still either in Hydra’s power or Natasha had hid them after they had read them.
Maybe that’s why she’s now finding herself going to his room with said file, really it was just ridiculous. “Bucky.” And that was really the only warning he got before she stepped inside and extended the file to him. “You really don’t need to go around and search my stuff, but then you always did it when I was being secretive, I was going to show you this file anyway later but since you’re so eager for it here you go.”
I did once and was also scared
He heard her get up out of the tub, tilting his head as he tracked her progress with sound and almost feeling bad he had drawn her from her bath. She was supposed to be enjoying herself, not yelling at him anyway. He hadn't done anything wrong by his measure except to fail to do what he wanted to do with his snooping. He would definitely have to work on that in the future, master his subterfuge and sleight-of-hand techniques. It was at least something to work towards, a mission small and easy to do.
He turned his head when she called and walked into his room, though he was still over by the window. He eyed the fact she was in a robe and held the file. He suspected some of it was in Russian. "Did I?" He frowned at the idea before looking out the window again. "Then show me later. Go enjoy your bath now."
Yes why you think i ran away from it lol
“...Yes, you always got curious when you thought I was trying to keep something from you and you always tried to find out what it was, it was a particular habit of yours.” For not saying he was to nosy for his own good and she decided not to mention that, he had made it quite difficult to keep things she wanted as a surprise or was too embarrassed to tell as a secret. “It doesn’t matters when I show you or not, you know.”
With a sigh she moved to leave the file on the bed and shrugged. “Feel free to read it and look over it, I don’t need to be here while you do that, once you have done that we are going to talk about it and see what we are going to do next, alright?” And she really didn’t waited for him to answer before she left his room and moved back to her own, she was probably going to end losing her patience with him at some point, she needed to take her time here.
When she slipped back in the bath, she was kind of thankful before the water was still warm and then slid further and further to get under the water and keep herself from screaming, such an action was going to probably trigger Bucky, and just stayed there for a bit before coming back out and resting her head against the edge of the tub, maybe she had made a mistake here or should have thought more about it before agreeing.
I don't have to think too hard about it
He was drawn from his boiling frustration when she mentioned the file, but he made no move to take it. He could read the front of it, the Russian words that told him that the file was about him. He knew in his own way it would detail dark secrets that would maybe not fill in blanks but tie in the smiling charming man to the deadly killer he was now. Did he dare read it?
He loitered at the window, indecisive long after she had gone. Finally, he moved slowly towards the file, seating himself on the bed next to it and flipping it open, only to freeze at the two images on the left hand side. Him, as he was now and as he was then. "...Bucky..." he muttered softly, tasting the nickname. Slowly, grudgingly really, he picked up the file and began to read it, watching parts of the story of his life in Hydra unfold.
so you feel my pain lol
But now she wondered if she had done the right thing by giving him that file, she knew there was some basic information of him, not the one that had broke her down and caused her to say locked down in her room for two whole days while she processed everything that had been done to him and he had done, not even Sam had been able to get her out from there till she was ready for it, the info he had wasn’t that heavy but it could still have an adverse effect on him.
The mix of all this and finally allowing her body to feel just how weary she was feeling, mostly due to the emotional drainage, and just being in the warm water, which helped her to relax her muscles, prompted her to slowly close her eyes and relax further, trying to fight not dozing off since it wasn’t a good idea to fall asleep in here…
…a little rest wouldn’t hurt, right?
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The Russians had found him, or they had found what was left of him anyway. He had lost his left arm just above the elbow in the fall, the rest of it relatively useless to him. He had been brought to Russia for care, but Hydra was still infiltrated there and someone altered Zola after he had been stabilized. He had been given a Soviet prosthetic after Zola was finished with him, using material from Stephanie's blood to enhance him similarly.
He had been violent, confused and had little in the way of memories. He had struggled against both what was done to him and what he couldn't remember. A caged animal, he thought as he flipped through the pages. They had begun to condition him, to deeply ingrain cues and commands to soothe him. Suddenly he knew; the back of his neck, his throat and his feet were highly sensitive to command. Scientists used his feet when he woke to keep him from thrashing and fighting back; Hydra agents often got a hold of his neck, bowing his head, forcing him to his knees as he gave in and went still. Ready to be commanded.
Other commands and conditioning was listed, but he knew in his bones it was there, seeping in his flesh. If he was triggered, he could either explode like a bomb or mewl and docile as a kitten depending on what it was. Only certain Hydra agents knew the true depth of it all. And the Soviets; they had a hand in him, had given him the original code name that he bore.
He abandoned the file on the bed, torn up and raw as he moved from the bedroom to instead fill the doorway of the bathroom. She was sleeping, trying to anyway. She looked peaceful, yet darkness raged in his mind, age old erratic behaviours wanting to attack her, to pummel her into the dirt, but he didn't. She was his safe place.
"You shouldn't sleep there."
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The fact she was able to tell he was moving in her direction was enough to let her know that whatever he had found in the file had its effects, had she had expected it and she took a deep breath, bracing herself to what could possible happen here. She didn’t reacted when he apparently reached the doorway, trying to keep herself relaxed and trying not to look dangerous, even though she was ready to react in any way he might. She slowly opened her eyes at his comment and looked at him for a few moments, taking him in and trying to see just what he was feeling, what he was thinking right now and she nearly shuddered a bit at the way he was looking at her.
In a way it reminded her of the way he had looked at her when they had been fighting in the carrier or more like when she had refused to fight him and he had demanded her response, yet there was something else there she couldn’t possible identify and it was what was holding him back. She moved to sit, the sound of the water echoing around them and sounding way to loud than it should right now, and well she really didn’t know what to say to him.
“…I know.”
She knew that she shouldn’t sleep here, she knew that he was torn between hurting her and not, she knew he was hurting and she wasn’t sure how to help him, she knew a lot of things right now.
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Slowly, his eyes drifted away from where she was slowly sitting up and glanced at the bathroom mirror. He was close enough to see his own reflection, to see both men staring back at him, haunted and haggard as he had been when they had first met up with his mask removed. He remembered the vulnerability when he refused to complete his mission to Pierce. He knew his defiance would earn him nothing but pain; he was a beaten creature, tortured, remade, renamed.
"Just... don't think about dying. You're all I have left in this world. You're the only good thing anyway," he murmured softly, staring at his reflection in the mirror. He found his eyes straying to the metal arm attached to him before he shrugged. "Take care of yourself, but don't slip away no matter how much it might seem like a good idea."
Slowly, he withdrew from the bathroom, padding back to the bedroom that he had been given. He avoided the rest of the file, leaving it open on the bed as he did the only thing that struck him at something safe, not even realizing how childish and boyish it was; how often he had done it when he was little. He lay down on the floor and used his metal arm to hoist the bed up from the floor, sliding underneath it. It worked much better when one was a child, but the effect was the same as he settled in, near pinned to the ground as the wood and metal springs dug into his flesh. The pressure, the inability to avoid it was like a very cold hug, calming him even if the bed was distorted because of his efforts to just lay there under it.
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But she had grown to accept herself as much as she could and she’s not sure if Bucky is doing that or not, probably not at the moment considering what he had read in that file. She hoped that maybe one day he…whatever she was thinking about soon came to a halt as soon as he started to talk, and she couldn’t help the surge of guilt that she felt at having what she already knew confirmed and she really couldn’t respond before he retreated.
Stephanie stayed there for a bit before she finally decided to get out of the bathtub again, this time she took her time and care drying her hair and body, before moving to look for something to wear since she couldn’t move around naked, could she? Taking a deep breath, she moved to his room, she couldn’t leave him when he was feeling like this and stopped in the doorway when she noticed he was under the bed, she couldn’t help the other sad pang at the sight, she still remember when he had done that when he was kid –it had a habit he had when they had met and she had sometimes slipped under with him, but she doubted he was going to appreciate it right now.
Taking a deep breath she approached and then moved to lie on her side on the floor, resenting a bit the cold against the warm skin of her arms but willing to deal with it for the moment, and looking at him not daring to move closer or further. “I am sorry if you think or I gave you the impression that I was about ready to give up, I know I haven’t been exactly myself right now but a lot of things happened today, but really Buck, the idea of leaving you now that I have you back has never crossed my mind. You’re still the most important person in my life and that’s not going to change, no matter what you or I have gone through.”
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Was he like Schmidt then? Did he crave destruction on some pretense of being something more than he had been born? He didn't know; he wanted to go back to cryostasis and sleep this off. Hell, he might even take the pain of wiping at this point.
He didn't shift under the bed when he heard her come in, and his dark hair fell over his face to mostly blind him. It was his rebellion against the world, blinding himself, wishing he didn't have to hear but stuck here and pinned all the same. He'd cope; she'd take him in, turn a blind eye to aspects of him and things would be okay as long as he wasn't a danger to her, right? Otherwise, maybe the people she knew would simply put him down like a rabid dog, snapping and snarling, terrified as they beat him and ended him. Maybe it was the way it was supposed to be.
"You're allowed to give up on me," he said softly, through his curtain of hair across his face. "I'm not that hero from the Smithsonian; I'm not even the friend you remember me to be. I'm something else, maybe I'm just wearing his face." He hummed softly and turned his head so his face pressed more into the floor. "I won't blame you if you want to walk away."
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“You know, when we first met and you saved me from those kids that were roughing me up, I could tell you hadn’t exactly done it out of pity and you had been sincere on your aid towards me, yet I still yelled at you for getting in the way, I even slapped your hand away when you offered your hand to help me up, anyone else, any other kid would have said something nasty to me and carried on with his way without ever looking back at me, but you didn’t. At the contrary, you called me cute and proceeded to clean the blood off.”
A small little smile appeared on her face at that memory, she had thought he was an idiot back then but it was someone that had refused to leave her behind, they had been in each other’s lives through the most important changes, be those sad or happy, they have had each other’s back and made their circumstances bearable to each other, she had been his everything back then and he still was, despite the situation.
“You didn’t give up on me that first chance and I know I could right now, walk away and leave you behind, but I am not going to do so because, yes you’re not the same person you were before and neither am I for that matter no matter what you might think, but you’re still Bucky, with all the good or bad, and I’m still me, regardless all the changes, and sure we might need to relearn things, but we can do it, we have always been able to do it. We promised to be with each other till the end of the line, and we are still far away from that.”
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He wondered if it told how he had been leashed and muzzled at times and then released to perform a macabre dance where no one stood before him. No target had escaped him, so good at his job as he was knife flashing, trigger pulling, sliding in and out as if he had never been there at all. Some deaths were considered suicides; no one stood against him and lived. Stephanie was the only one physically capable of matching him.
Yet, their first meeting was not something that he remembered, but he felt a sense of longing to. He closed his eyes to try to imagine the setting, the school yard with her flat on her backside, beaten but not broken, glaring defiantly. It was at the tip of his mind. "That's when I was a person," he finally uttered softly.
He might not have given up on her, but she hadn't the history that he did, wasn't the monster he was. He could slide into old habits so easily, knife flashes, enemies falling. "You've read the full file?" He wasn't really this 'Bucky' right now, but he let her believe that if she really wanted to. "You might not like what you find if you stay close. You might realize that it was better to walk away, just point me in the direction of your enemy and let them die with me."
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“…Do you really think I don’t know all the things that were done to you and what you have done? That I am not aware of all the pain that was forced upon you and the lives you took, that you can easily turn on me if something triggers you and that I can be as much in danger with you as if I somehow manage to fall into the hands of Hydra? I could have walked away from you a long time ago but I am here with you and willing to take that gamble, and that might make me stupid, but it doesn’t change that I am not walking away and leaving you behind again.” She takes a deep breath and shrugs a bit. “If you turn on me and kill me, then so be it, it was the gamble I took and I will deal with the consequences, so don’t worry about it anymore.”
She moved to take a seat now and glared at the wall, it was better to aim her anger at that than him at the moment, considering his last statement. “Also you’re an idiot if you think I am just going to synch you to just go and die with any enemy, you don’t want me to die and leave you, and I don’t want you to do the same, so don’t you dare suggesting something like that again, Barnes.” With that she stood up, gathered the file that had been left crumbled on the bed and to decide what to do with it afterwards, before finally leaving his room.
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She wasn't walking away from him; she would stay. Somehow he felt better about it, knowing she would be there, but he shifted slightly when she sat up. Her anger was not impotent on him, but he knew that he was not worth as much as she was in the eyes of the people, in the eyes of her allies and friends. He had nothing but her; if he disappeared, she still technically had so much to live for.
Yet, just like that, she rose and walked away from even after saying that she wouldn't. He shifted, the shudder of metal springs against his arm as he let her go. He had to to mull over what she spoke, to figure out what he would do and how he would do it. His structure system was very shaky after all, and he needed to figure out what to do. Besides, she probably needed a little space.
no subject
After a quick drop by in her room, leaving the file, the phone and the gun a different place –not that she didn’t thought Bucky couldn’t find them, and after standing in her room for a few moments, she once again walked out and closed the door behind her, she needed to step out for a bit, she couldn’t stay inside anymore, she was feeling so trapped in here and she was just a wreck, and she was thankful this place had a fenced backyard and she could go there for the time being.
It was also on her luck that the door for the backyard was quiet enough and she could pry it open without much of a fuss, shivering just a bit since the temperature was dropping, but she didn’t cared at the moment and just sat in one of the new chairs Stark had provided for this place, bending her legs against her chest and resting her forehead against her knees, her shoulders might be shaking a bit or not, it was only natural to get some sort of relief and if hers came in just some barely there tears so be it, she will have it out of her system and then she will be back to what and how she needed to be.
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He saw her moving to a chair and sitting, not actually leaving the yard and walking away. He watched what he could of her as he controlled himself and finally convinced himself away from the window and slowly over to the closet. He pulled it open and stared at all the clothing inside, making a conscious choice that if he were to follow her, he would have to look the part and not make her decide his clothes for him. It was a small step for her, only for her.
He changed into a new pair of jeans that hugged his hips but didn't cling tightly to him. He found a black tight-fitting shirt and then overlaid a red button-down long sleeve shirt over it. He walked to the bathroom and actually brushed his hair and put it back up into a ponytail that was neater and peered at his reflection again. Maybe someday he'd feel like this 'Bucky' fellow. Until then, she was everything.
Barefoot, he walked out into the backyard, breathing in the freshness and allowed the door closing to announce him. He walked over to her slowly, uncertain and out of place before he slowly lowered himself into a chair nearby. "I won't let you down."
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It did made her feel better, not at her best, but better than how she had felt all day and taking another deep shuddering breath, she finally moved to rest her chin against her knees and stared at the backyard, from a distance she could heard the sound of warm laughter and she was glad to know that there were some people in the world that were still happy and joyful, she hoped that no one took that away from them. She lightly tilted her head and maybe it was a bit amusing when she suddenly thought that the backyard could use some work, the grass was too high and the few flowers needed some tending, but what would be the point if she was going to be leaving soon?
She heard the door and knew he was there, but she didn’t reacted and stayed where she was, not turning to look at him and waiting to see what he said to her, they had done and said a lot to each other today as it was. “I know you won’t, James.” She finally broke the silence that had settled over them. “But try to change not only for me, but also for yourself. I am not going to be around forever and I don’t want you to lose whatever you might gain while we are together just because I’m not there.”
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