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

Let's See How This Ends

"The past is never dead. It's not even past."
-William Faulkner

****

Dust, that's what everything starts from. Grains so small that, alone, you couldn't even see them. But once they condense with millions and billions of other grains, something starts to show.
Stars, planets, organisms. Everything starts from nothing, to end up as something beautiful, most of the time.
Theories about the creation of the universe range from the big bang to divine intervention, but what most people overlook is how something so mysterious can be, at the same time, the most simple thing.
We've heard stories and legends since we were children. When our minds were still capable of perceiving amazing things as reality and not just stories.
Most of these stories are bound to fade and leave behind barely any memory of them, but there are stories you cannot forget. Not when it's your Story. Not when it's who you are.

Bucky's POV

It's been two hours since Nova disappeared. Two hours in which I've spent looking in every corner and crack of this place. Hoping to find her sitting somewhere. Maybe eating a donut, totally clueless of what is going on.
"I was waiting for you. Why do you have that face, Barnes?" I can hear her saying.
What if we don't find her in time?
"Cameras didn't catch her," Tony reports, rubbing his temples as he paces around nervously.
Steve walks into the conference room wearing his suit. "She's not here. They wouldn't keep her so close to us." He states, and Nat nods.
"Nova could be anywhere. They took her with all of us around and all the security. There's no place they couldn't have brought her." I mutter, sitting with my head low and forcing myself to stay focused on finding her.

"Why don't we ask Strange?" Sam wonders.
"He's been MIA for the last two weeks." Tony sighs.
"Get your equipment and regroup at the compound in an hour. We need to figure out how to proceed." He adds and walks out.
I stand up, going to follow him, "Tony," I call, and he turns around, looking at me sternly.
This is the second time something has happened to Nova while I was a few feet from her.
I keep my head up, pushing away my guilt. "The book, we need to decipher the book." Tony looks down, his mind working on something.
"Bring it in. I need to check a few things." He states before striding away.

****

A loud thud from the neighbors upstairs stops my train of thought, and I realize I was staring at the running water in the sink.
I have to get to the compound.
My feet drag me to my bedroom and stand in front of my closet. My eyes fix on the duffle stuffed behind a stack of boxes.
I haven't opened it in months, and my stomach feels weird at the idea of wearing those clothes again.
My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I grab it, reading Steve's text. "We're ready."
I toss my phone on the bed, put on my leather jacket and boots. One last check for the loaders, and I check the blade of my knife, securing the guns on my ankle and hip.

A quick glance at the sweater left on the bed, Nova left it there when she spent the night.
I look away and grab the backpack hanging by the doorknob, leaving the apartment.
It will take half the time with my Harley. There's no need to face Manhattan's traffic right now.
When I get there, the rest of the team is already discussing our next move. Tony and Steve are working together on something, their eyes glued to the monitors.
I walk to the table, leaving the book on it and staring at Tony.
"She couldn't get past the first page," I say, showing him the first page, and he reads it.
"How did she do it?" Tony mutters, looking at me.

My mind goes to the night she tried to explain to me the weird dream she had and how hard she was trying to remember the rest of it. "She had a dream. Its an excerpt of a story her mother used to tell her."
"What story?" Steve wonders, stepping closer to read the written page.
I shrug, taking the book and turning the page. My eyes get lost on the weird symbols. "She can't remember. And there's nothing on the internet."
A British accent catches my attention, and I turn around, my hand immediately reaching for my gun. "Of course not. This book is not from Midgard." Loki states, keeping his hands clasped behind his back.