𝑼𝒔, 𝑹𝒆𝒎𝒆𝒎𝒃𝒆𝒓 - 𝑩. 𝑩𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒆𝒔

18b

Marcella slept half of the night; the half that Bucky didn't.

She woke to Bucky's light jolting from his nightmares during the night, calmed him by stroking his back and whispering nothings into his ears then when his body stilled she fell back into her own slumber. She later woke up to him kissing her cheek and leaving. When she finally sat up in bed, she popped a few ibuprofen (which mostly acted as a placebo since drugs barely worked on super-soldiers) for her headache that was caused by the stress of last night's mission.

She remembered what Bucky told her before she drifted off to sleep. He said he was going to feel hopeless today. Marcella didn't really know what to do. He didn't leave a note or a text telling her what was going on.

She kept her mind busy from the worry and ate some food then cleaned her room. While cleaning her room she found his black jacket hanging on her closet door. She grabbed it in her hand acknowledging he must've forgot it there for a while. There was a weight to the jacket that wasn't supposed to be there. She felt down it until she reached its pockets. Hoping it wasn't his wallet or phone, she slipped her hand inside and found a leather bound notebook instead.

Marcella sat down on her bed and flipped through the pages. Most of it wasn't in Bucky's handwriting. There were lists of the most random things: movies, music, people, world events. It was the notebook Steve left for Bucky. Marcella carefully turned the pages until she found the list of names for Bucky's amendments. Most were crossed out already due to his "avenging," as Sam called it. There were a few names left uncrossed and she recognized one. Nakajima.

Marcella grabbed a pen from her desk and uncapped the lid with her teeth. With the blue ink she wrote a name that deserved to be on the list too.

Her phone rang. Looking over at it she found the bolded letters of her lawyers name. She picked up the call and slipped the book back into the jacket pocket.

Bucky had stayed awake most of the night holding her and listening to her sleep in his arms. He was comforted by the safety but also the simplicity of it. It was like the cold metal bars between them once were all just a bad dream. He fell asleep at one point then woke up naturally around seven in the morning. He dreamt of the Winter Soldier holding a gun to Marcella's head in the place of Yuri's son. He wondered what Marcella had dreamed about that night as she whimpered in her sleep. At ten he left the apartment, kissing her cheek goodbye. Her tired eyes opened and he whispered that he needed to get a few things done. She nodded her head and closed her eyes again, but not without giving his hand a short squeeze of endearment and confidence. As he left the room he saw noticed scribbles written on an open daily planner. She had an appointment with her lawyer today. Bucky thought that was a little strange but he carried on.

Bucky walked back to his apartment; he walked from Manhattan to Brooklyn. It took him a little over two hours, but he needed that time to clear his head.

Entering his small apartment, the one he paid for with the Prisoner of War pocket change he received every month from the government and would be receiving to his grave, he flicked on the lights. It was as empty as he left it. There was a love-seat in the corner, a tv on the wall, and nothing good to eat in the kitchen. The piano that came with the place was still covered in dust in the corner. He tapped his gloves hands on the keys once in a blue moon remembering what his father taught him how to play as a kid.

Bucky knew it was wishful thinking that Marcella would immediately move in with him after they got back together but he just didn't know how to make this place a home. Half of him wanted to move into some small neighbourhood in another state and start all over again out there. Stop with the missions, retire like an old man should. He could pretend nothing ever happened if he tried. The other half of him liked the familiarity of Brooklyn no matter how different it had become. He could walk down the streets and retrace the memories of the past he liked. He liked walking the path he took to get to Steve's or to his sisters.