Necessary Good, Unnecessary Evil | No rest For Wounded Souls [Bucky Barnes]

Under Control

"Your memory is a monster; it summons with will of its own. You think you have a memory, but it has you."
-John Irving

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Nova's POV

My eyes wander on the monitor of my PC, waiting for Amy to run the last test. "I'm sorry, I couldn't find any results." She announces, resetting the program.
I sit down on the couch, dropping my head between my hands. "What about Tyral and Nyva? Is there any place, people? God, even stars." I sigh, trying to remember as much as I can from my dream.
"You don't remember the rest of the story?" Bucky asks, coming back into the living room to clean up the coffee table.
"No, we stopped reading it when I was five or something," I say, handing him the empty beer bottles.
My phone vibrates on the table, and Amy speaks again. "Message from Rusty."
Bucky snickers, dropping next to me on the couch. "You changed his name again?"
"He found out about the last one and threatened to call me his princess if I didn't change it," I grumble, searching for old stories on the internet with the same excerpt as my mother's story.
"What does it says, Amy?" I ask, not paying too much attention to whatever Tony has to say right now.
"Don't forget to show up tomorrow at four for the last dress fit." Amy reads the message for me.
I frown, confused. "What dress fit?"
"There's another message from Rusty," Amy notifies. "For the Expo." 

"Fuck," I curse, smacking my forehead. I totally forgot about that.
"Do you want me to text that back?" Amy asks.
"No," I groan. "tell him I can dress myself."
"What is this about?" Bucky chimes in, pulling me closer to him.
I rest my head on his shoulder, "I got an email with a shit ton of different dresses, but I didn't think I had to pick one." I gripe, already knowing this is going to be a pain in the ass.
"So, you didn't?" Bucky wonders, his hand moving up and down my arm.
"No, they were all ugly as fuck." I scoff, laying down and resting my head in his lap.
He looks down at me, smirking, "you would look great in anything."

"Yeah, sure. I'm so glad there are no pictures of my homecoming dance to change your mind." I chuckle, my arm dangling off the couch.
"You know," my fingers taps on my stomach, "I saw an old picture of you with Steve, but never of a younger you." I ponder, poking his cheek.
Bucky sighs, moving me off him. "I'm so gonna regret this," he mutters, walking to his room.
"What are you doing?" I ask as I follow him.
Bucky grabs a box stored under his bed and brings it to the living room, where he starts to take out a few things and an old album. "Steve found out that a lot of our stuff got donated to museums, and we managed to get back a few things." He says.
The mumble from the TV keeps going in the background while I watch him opening the photo album and placing it on his lap.
"Is that you?" I ask in disbelief.
Bucky chuckles, "At two or something."

I smile wide, looking at the pictures as he flips through the pages. "That's the cutest kid I have ever seen." I coo, resting my hand on his.
"That's my sister, Rebecca. You two would have gotten along well." He ponders, his eyes studying the old picture.
I loop my arms around his neck, "hotness run in the Barnes genes, huh?"
Bucky shakes his head, laughing. "She would have told you I'm adopted." I cackle, leaving a kiss on his cheek as he goes on looking at the pictures.
"And that's Steve before becoming taller than me." He hands me a photo, and I take it.
How weird is it to finally get a peek of their life before Hydra, the Avengers, and all the rest.
So much happened, and I don't even know if I will ever be able to understand how this must feel. 
"Oh, that's a wiener," I point a picture with a little Bucky posing butt naked.
"Oh c'mon!" Bucky groans, closing the album and putting it away while I go on laughing.

We both lay down on the couch, me on top of him with my eyes on the TV.
My hand reaches for my purse on the table, and I start digging in, looking for my wallet. "That's all I have. Tony gave it to me." I say, taking out an old picture of my mother.
The edges are creased, but it doesn't matter. It's still the best thing I have aside from my memories.
"He took it a few days before she left him. I was so scared to forget her face. This picture is the only one I have." I mutter, my eyes indulging on her face.