remains • b. barnes

4

The first thing I did when I got inside was take a deep breath and go to the records room. I was looking for Dr Foyle. He creeped the hell out of me, but I was convinced he knew something.

I was feeling brave. So brave, in fact, that when I didn't find him in the records room or his office next door, I hurried into the large, extensive library, checked every corner, instead of writing the whole search off. And I wasn't even discouraged after that. I searched the entire third floor.

But he wasn't there.

So I checked break rooms, and I asked around. No one seemed to know much of anything about Dr. Foyle's whereabouts. They didn't know where he worked most of the time or where he ate lunch. But everyone around was an engineer or an agent. They probably didn't spent a lot of time with Dr. Foyle anyway.

Still, though, I had a sinking feeling that I knew exactly where he was. I still had dirt on my shoes from my walk through the ruins. I went back to the red oak.

Through the ruins, I tried to match the pace I'd been at with Dr. Strange. I hurried through the clearing so I wouldn't hesitate and turn around. I tried to think about what I was going to clean my shoes with later. I had to clutch at the bottom of my skirt as the wind picked up.

Then, the red oak. Just behind it, the tree line. I didn't stop. I kept going, although I wished I'd brought pepper spray, or maybe a knife. Dr. Foyle didn't exactly look strong, but I wasn't very strong either.

I was trying to recall everything I'd ever learned about fighting, although it was all in passing (TV, movies, Nat), when I heard heavy footsteps behind me. Someone's jogging slowed to a walk as they approached. I spun around.

Then I sighed with relief. Bucky.

"You're back," I said happily.

My first instinct was to throw myself at him again, especially since I was a little chilly, but based on his mood when we were on the elevator, I thought it was best to stifle that urge.

"Yeah," he said. He stopped a yard away from me. We were right in front of the red oak, its branches rustling. "What are you doing out here?"

My heart dropped. He was annoyed. He was looking at me the same way he'd been looking at everyone else during the emergency drill.

"Oh." I bit my lip. I dug my toe into the dirt, and then regretted what that did to my shoe. "I'm just—curious, I guess. Sorry."

What was I apologizing for? There was no rule against being out here. But he made me feel small, like maybe there was a rule I didn't know about.

"Curious?" he pressed. It was practically a scoff.

I shifted my weight. Did he know about the surge? Dr. Strange had said not to tell anyone. But surely that didn't apply to Bucky? Bucky was the least hysterical person here. And he probably already knew. But still—he'd said not to tell anyone.

I didn't chance it.

"Yeah. Facing my fears or whatever," I said.

He eyed me skeptically, like he thought I was up to something. "Don't you have work to be doing? Instead of wandering around out here?"

"Yeah," I agreed, willing myself not to fucking cry. If he raised his voice even a little, I knew it would spill over. "Sorry. I'll, um—yeah. I'm going."

I started to turn away, but I stopped myself. I'd already come all the way out here on my own. I clung to that little spark of courage.

"Bucky?" I asked. It came out more timidly than I meant for it to, but at least it came out. "I didn't mean to avoid you this morning. I was running late. I'll be on the elevator tomorrow."