Attachment Theory - Bucky BarnesxOC

Part 21: medicine

Oklahoma

She dreams about him. They're walking down a street in Brooklyn - even though she's never been there before, she knows it's Brooklyn. She doesn't know what decade it is, but she assumes it's sometime in the '30s or '40s judging by the way everyone is dressed. Bucky is in a brand new suit. He holds her hand tightly. There's no metal arm, no weight on his shoulders, no exhaustion in his eyes. He smiles and laughs - that "throw your head back" kind of laughter people do when something is really funny. He has a great laugh. His nose scrunches up and she can see the crinkles around his eyes.

Alice watches him talk and tell jokes, not quite believing that the man beside her could have ever been captured by Hydra. He looks so free.

The dream feels like she's standing outside of herself watching a movie, as though she's the omniscient narrator with all the answers. She doesn't tell him what she knows. She doesn't want to ruin this.

He's so happy.

She's jolted from the dream in the middle of the night. Alice gasps softly and then hears the sound of a pen scratching against paper. She blinks, rolling over to find Bucky sitting up in bed writing in a notebook, his eyes hardened. She watches him for a few seconds, trying to discern whether or not she's dealing with Bucky or the Soldier. When she sees him let out a cute little frustrated growl as he scribbles out a spelling mistake, she knows it's her Bucky. The Soldier would already be staring back at her with those steel gray eyes. Alice reaches up to touch his metal arm. He gasps softly and looks down at her.

"You scared me."

"Sorry. What are you doing?"

He looks down and smiles.

"I write down my dreams," he tells her. "Try to see if they're memories or not."

"How can you tell the difference?" Her voice is raspy and thick from sleep. "And why are you doing this in the dark?"

"I can see fine," he chuckles, pointing at the moonlight that's dripping in through the window. "And I don't know. I kind of take everything at face value right now."

Alice squints and looks around.

"Figure out the rest later, huh?"

"Something like that, Cherry."

Bucky leans over and kisses her on the temple. She doesn't ask to see what's in the book and tries to keep herself from prying. As much as she wants to help him; to know everything that's going on in his mind, some things are still private, and he deserves that privacy. Hell, he hasn't had it for 70 years. She doubts he's been conscious long enough to work through his nightmares and discern them from memories. Judging solely by the look on his face, it can't be an easy task. He's trying to hide it, but Alice can see the pain in his eyes. They give him away completely.

Instead of asking questions, she nuzzles up against him and closes her eyes. She feels his metal fingers gently run through her hair and slowly opens them again to stare up at him. He looks terrified.

"Is it--"

Alice offers him a reassuring, warm smile. She gently grasps his wrist and kisses his metal palm. During the drive here, he told her that this arm has done some horrible things; that he has done some horrible things - things that will haunt him for the rest of his life.

"Those things you did aren't you, Bucky."

"I did them, though."

Alice shrugs as she sips her soda.

"Okay. Fair. But -- listen, I saw this Ted Talk--"

"Who's Ted?"

She laughs.