Two Ghosts

Chapter 11

I watch Bucky eat his pasta like the Beast from the Disney movie, he's so adorable. When he realizes I am looking at him, he sits up and swallows the food in his mouth. There is some sauce on his chin, and as an instinct I reach out to him and run my finger over his skin to clean it. He is standing still, with his eyes following my movements. My thumb caresses his chin a little more than it should, and when I pull away he blinks a couple of times and looks away. Did I just make him nervous?

-Did you like the pasta?-I feel the tension growing, and I want it to shrink. He nods fervently.
-Best pasta I've ever had.-he leaves the plate on the table and sighs. I remember that he always refused to have pasta because it looked too wiggly for him, so that answer doesn't make any sense.
-Have you ever eaten pasta before?-I frown and smile.
-Nope.-he answers, and we both let out shy laughs. He's joking now...-It was amazing, thank you.
-You're welcome.-I smile again and take a sip of water.
-Can I ask you something?-he says after a few seconds.
-Of course.-I nod and prepare for the question. I don't know what to expect at this point.
-Why are you trying so hard to help me?-he is looking down, and probably playing with his fingers under the table. How can I answer this...?
-I don't wanna...freak you out.-I say as I move uncomfortable on my seat.
-You won't.-he finally makes eye contact, and his glare tells me that he may be right.
-Before you...fell from the train, you and I were really close.-I explain as I rest my arms over the table.-You were very important to me.-he seems very interested in what I am saying. What is he up to...?-You are very important to me.

His eyes have a shine that I thought I would never see again, it gives me hope that he is closer to recovery than I believed before. I catch him staring at my lips for a few seconds, and when he notices that I'm seeing him, his eyes jump back to my mouth. Is he doing this on purpose? I can't help but smile at that thought. This is very...40's Bucky of him. I clear my throat and stand up from my seat.

-I'm gonna wash the dishes.-I announce as I take both plates to the sink. I try to take my mind away from what felt like a moment with the old Bucky as I clean the kitchen and he gets lost in the house.

I bought a history book at the store, I thought that maybe he would like to read what has been happening in the world while he was...gone. Also, I brought my laptop, but I am not sure if he is ready for that. I actually don't know if he's aware of the existence of computers. Let's stick to the book plan. Maybe it would be nice for him to read that he died as a war hero. Although now that the word of him being alive and an assassin is spreading, that view might change. I'll keep that to myself for now. I finish the dishes and I go get the book from one of the bags of the store. I take it and walk to Bucky's room.

-Hey.-I knock on the open door and walk in as he turns his head to me. He is just sitting on the bed, looking at a wall.-I got you somethin'.-I give him the book, and he looks at it as he frowns.-For you to catch up on everything.-he nods and opens it carefully, like he could break it just by breathing near it.
-Thanks.-he whispers as he concentrates and starts reading.

I go to my room and check on my phone, I have a few messages from Steve and Sam, others from Maria, Nat and Clint. Clint sent me a picture of his kids, they are so adorable, and they call me auntie JayJay, they are so cute!

"I think I may have something you can start with."

I read from Maria's text. I aksed her before if she could help me creat a network of low key informers to keep myself in the dark. Nat sent me the number of a guy who could get me transport to fly to another country, so I'm getting closer to get Bucky to somewhere safe. But, where? Maybe in Europe, there are a lot of places where we could lay low...We? No, he. Where he could lay low. I'm not sure he would want me there, after all I am just a constant reminder of all that he has lost and the frustration of not being able to remember a part of his life. I think he would be better off without me. The thing is I don't want him to be alone, I don't want to leave him. Maybe if I talked to him about this it would become clearer for me. Is he ready for this conversation, though?