January 14, 2015

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Come to my room.

I was laying in bed with Bucky draped over me. He was snoring lightly and crushing my lungs.

Kind of stuck right now.

Are you okay?

Yeah, I just have a super soldier sleeping on top of me.

Oh, he's a heavy sleeper. You can sneak out.

What could he want that was so important? Carefully, I unglued myself from underneath Bucky. It was late afternoon, and we had done nothing all day except be lazy.

He was dreaming about Coney Island. I heard echoes of laughter and the sounds of game machines. He felt happy. It radiated off of him like the first rays of sun in the morning.

I smoothed his hair back from his forehead and smiled. "Be right back," I whispered. He didn't even twitch.

My fingers tapped on Steve's door. He answered it quickly and pulled me inside. There was an intensity in his eyes I had learned to get used to.

"I found it," he said.

My eyebrows pinched together, "Found what?"

He brought me over to his computer. There were a hundred files open. A lot of them were in German and Russian. I stared blankly at the screen. "What?"

"Bucky's book." Steve said plainly.

My blood felt like ice. I looked back at the screen. "Where is it?"

He sat on the bed, "A man named Vasily Karpov has it. I've got Sam tracking him down now."

We stared at each other for a while. I tried to read his mind, but Steve was careful. His thoughts were quiet. He smiled at me, "When I have more information, we'll make a plan."

I stood and walked over to him, "I want to know as soon as you do."

"And not a second longer," he confirmed.

He nodded to the door, "Go, enjoy your day. I just wanted to tell you."

I hugged him, ruffling his hair in the way I knew he hated. "Thanks, Steve." 

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