Guns and Ammunition [] TFATWS

Five

Chapter Five:

Josephine stood by the window, leaning against the frame as Bucky remained on the floor, knees drawn up to his chest. Good Morning America continued to air, and with it the full interview with the new Captain America.

It was still quite odd to wrap her head around the fact that he was friends with Steve Rogers, and how she never realized. They'd been out on the streets plenty of times, in shops and crowded areas and yet nobody else picked him out of the crowd. Maybe she wasn't as dumb as she felt.

Though she'd never be able to truly understand his loss, being a man who had lived through countless decades, one who watched the world change. Josephine wandered towards the TV and pushed the power button, the only source of light vanished and left the room dark.

"You should get some sleep, Bucky." She said softly, "The sun's gonna rise soon."

He looked up at her, even in the dark she could see the hurt and anger in his eyes. "I'm fine."

Josephine shook her head, stepping next to him. She knelt down, hands gently grasping his forearm. He rose without resistance, and she moved her grip to his hand as she lead him silently to his room. She flipped on the light, nudging him towards the bed.

"This will be much more comfortable than the floor." She told him from her spot in the doorway, "I promise."

Bucky stood in the centre of the room, his hand grazing the duvet set. He pursued his lips, "Want to go for a walk?"

"It's nearly three in the morning. You should get some sleep."

He blinked, chest heaving with breath. She watched his eyes jump around the room, looking ridiculous in his leather jacket. "I don't want to sleep. I can't."

"You can't function as a normal human on an hour of sleep, if that." She wandered up to him, staring up. Even in the dark, his eyes were always the same shining blue. "Is it the nightmares?"

He said nothing, knowing that the problem wasn't going to sleep. It was waking up, it was tomorrow. He'd have to finally reply to Sam, maybe even meet him somewhere to discuss about everything that had happened since their worlds were twisted upside down.

"You go to sleep, Bucky." She told him, "I can stay, if you want. If I hear you start to call out, I'll wake you up right away."

"Just a walk, not too long. Please."

Josephine nodded slowly, turning and heading to the door. He was falling quiet again, something she was used too. On occasion they'd sit in silence, waiting until he was ready to talk again. He usually broke it by cracking a joke. They were never good jokes but she laughed nonetheless. The duo made their way out of his apartment, she watched as he again left his door unlocked and made way for the stairs. She stuck by him, eyeing the darkened surroundings as the sound of feet scrapping on cement echoed.

The temperature had dropped slightly since their afternoon errand, and a soft breeze had picked up. Josephine walked alongside him, their arms brushing as they went. The streets were quiet, only a few people mingled in the corners of shops, seeking shelter or tucked away in makeshift homes.

"Do you know anything about me?" Bucky questioned, staring straight ahead. "Are you sure you didn't read anything else?"

She shook her head, eyeing a few burnt out lamp posts ahead of them. The sky was a dark abyss, stars jutted out in contrast, so bright that even in the city they seemed to be quite clear. "No. Why didn't you tell me you're an Avenger?"

He snorted at that, "I'm not an Avenger."

"Ok fine," She shrugged, glancing up at him. "Why didn't you tell me you were a superhero."

"I'm not that either."

Josephine pursed her lips, a cold gust of wind wrapping around her body. Her bare arms swelled with goosebumps and she crossed her arms for warmth. "Are you sure? You seem superhero-ey."

"Back in the 40's, when the war was raging, Steve and I were fighting against Hydra on a moving train." He said slowly, still staring straight ahead. It felt like he was trying so hard not to relive it, but talking about the past always brought back the memories. She wondered why he was telling her all this, why he would do that to himself when she certainly could just search it up on her phone. "I fell off. Or was pushed, the details are kind of blurry now, it's been so long. I fell anyways, obviously. I should have died right there. Instead I was barely still breathing, and two Hydra soldiers found and dragged my body away."

She didn't know much about Hydra, but she remembered learning about it in school. Josephine let his story sink in, remaining quiet as he took a sharp breath. She didn't know what to say, yet she knew nothing could make it better. He'd been alive for so long now, much longer than he should have. Living through many traumatic and horrible experiences was a lot, but living through decades of them was another story. She didn't know how he did it.

"I woke up strapped to a table. I don't remember what happened but I was groggy and everything hurt. Steve found me and fought his way out with me leaning on his shoulder. I owe everything to him."

She wished she could've met Steve, and see what it was like for Bucky to be with someone he loved and trusted so much. To see what it was like when he was relaxed and open, to be with someone you've known your whole life.

"Somewhere along the way I lost my arm. I don't remember." He shrugged, leaving out the rest of his story. A very important part of his story, the part that still haunted him. "Sorry I don't have a cool story for that."

Josephine laughed, shaking her head. Black hair tumbled in front of her eyes and she quickly tucked them behind her ears, crossing her arms once again. "The metal ones pretty cool though." She smiled at him, "Gives you a superhero vibe."

Bucky rolled his eyes, a small smile tugging at his lips. He looked down at her, the woman's delicate features gazing towards him. He'd have to tell her the truth eventually, he knew that. Yet he still couldn't bring himself to do it, because he knew if he did, if he got to cross her name off his list— that meant he'd never see her again. She would not nothing to do with him, she'd hate him.

"Will you ever talk to me about your nightmares?" She asked, genuine concern on her face. "If you ever need someone to talk too, that you can trust, I'm always next door."

He sighed, nodding slowly. That was the worst part of all. How could he ever tell her his nightmares were about his past as the Winter Solider? How would he ever be able to explain that in his brain washed state, he killed and tormented innocent people.

How could he ever tell her that he was the one responsible for her sisters death?