Saving Bucky (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

Chapter 46 - A Hazy Connection

"Are you sure we shouldn't take one more day?" you ask, frantically tapping on the tablet and swiping through reports. "We're close, James. We're so close."

You glance up at the stairs as you hear James' heavy boots headed down. You spot him on the final step clad in all black, two black duffel bags in hand, stuffed to the brim. 

"We agreed," he grunts, setting them down near the front door. "24 hours, Y/n. It's been almost 36 and we haven't gotten any closer."

"Not true," you fire back, holding up the tablet. "I think I found something. Look."

James huffs, but walks over to the sofa, resting his arms on the back as he leans over and peers over your head down at the tablet in your hands. He squints, reading through the report the two of you have already gone through at least five times.

"It's the Spectre extraction report out of Stutthof," he grumbles.

"Yeah. But look at the date," you say. 

"Hmm," James grunts, brow furrowed. "1944."

"Exactly," you say, swiping several times to another report. "Okay now look at this one. What's the file date?"

"2010," James says.

"Right," you say. "But look at the other report it references," you say excitedly, tapping on a hyperlink and pulling up a set of field notes. "Look, James. Look at when these were written."

"1944," James says, his brow furrowing.

"And look," you say, swiping to the next report. "This is the Kazakhstan report. The one from 2013. The one about the sleeping sickness? Look at when the mine was first raided."

"1944," James says again, his tone dropping.

"Pick any one of these reports, James," you say eagerly. "And each one traces back to 1944. People, natural resources, research...everything mentioned in these files is a procurement of some kind of resource that traces back to 1944. Someone was building something, James. Or at least preparing. You don't pull people and resources together like that for no reason."

James is quiet for a moment, his lips moving slightly as if ghosting over unsaid words. You wait patiently as he processes, thinking at superhuman speed. After a quiet moment, his jaw tightens and he reaches past you, swiping to a random report and tapping through until he reaches a note from 1944. A low growl rumbles from inside his chest as he taps on another report. He navigates through, tapping on the linked sources until he reaches one from 1944.  His brow furrows and his frown grows more prominent as he swipes to another report - this one from 1961. He reads through until he gets to the end.

"What about this one?" he says. "There's no link to 1944 here."

"Really?" you say cheekily, pointing to the signature. "Look who signed off."

"Former Director Hawthorn," Barnes mumbles. 

"And guess when he was made Director of the Hold?" you posit.

James frowns. "1944?" he asks.

You arch one brow expectantly. James' gaze flits from the tablet to you. His jaw tenses and he lets out a sigh. "Okay. You're right. Whatever we're looking for, for some reason it all goes back to 1944. But Y/n," he says, gaze softening as he reaches down and brushes away a piece of hair from your cheek. "We don't know why. And no one mentioned in these notes from 1944 is still around, let alone relevant."

You laugh, taking James by surprise as you lean your head back, tilting your chin up to look at him nearly upside down. "That's funny," you muse. "Because I'm pretty sure you were around in 1944. And you're still relevant."