Chapter 11: Strangers No More

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"I need your help."

His words were clear and simple, but I found myself having a difficult time to take in his words.

"But-You're supposed to be-This is not possible," I stuttered, my eyes widened on him. He knitted his brows in thoughts and took a step towards me. In response I stepped back.

"I need your help," He repeated sternly, his voice was low, "Please."

My hands began to sweat. This was bat crap crazy. "How can I help?" I questioned helplessly, my voice cracking with nerves. Could he time travel? But how else could he explain his existence in modern day now? But what about Steve? Wasn't he from back in time too?

Bucky frowned and dropped his gaze briefly before fixing them on me again. I gulped, hoping that his task would be simple and easy. I honestly had no idea what I was dealing with here. "Would you please...help me to figure out what's happened to me?"

I was going to ask how once more, but seeing his slightly pouted lips and ceased brows, I found it harder and harder to resist him. My shoulders felt tensed when I tried to shrug, and his face relaxed slightly. He wasn't smiling yet, but he seemed less cold and distant.

I glanced him over subtly and discovered he was still wearing the same outfit that he had on when I first met him. His cheekbone was sharp, but I guessed hunger had done some goods too. "Are you hungry?" I asked, trying to collect myself again.

Hesitated, he nodded. Sighing to myself softly, I began to lead the way. "Let's start with some breakfast, shall we?"

Since I still hadn't picked up the courage to ask for a car yet, Bucky and I had to walk down the street to find a place for food. "You're name is not Bucky," I began quietly, hoping I wasn't stepping into some sort of grey area. Since I was just reaching his shoulders, I had tilt my head up slightly to read his expression. He merely shrugged.

"It's James. But they all call me Bucky." He paused and corrected himself, "Well, he does."

"Who does?"

"The man on the bridge. The blond one in the posters. Captain America."

I nodded as another car passed by us. The sky was grim and cloudy, typical for a Monday by my standard. For some reasons, I had this consisting feeling that people weren't appreciating Captain America's teammates well enough. It was true that Captain America had done lots, and even sacrificed himself for America. But what about the men who followed him into the fire, into his footsteps where some of them even gave up their lives too?

Like Bucky. Except for the fact that this very person was walking right next to me.

It didn't take me long to find this small restaurant by the side. Since no objection was heard from Bucky, I led him in. The air smelled of bacons and coffee. My stomach growled and I pressed a hand against it in embarrassment. Bucky peered down at me briefly before looking away.

"A table for two?" A girl with dyed blonde hair asked. Her eyes skimmed over Bucky subtly and focused back on me. I nodded and she turned to head towards a small table by the window. I took a seat from across Bucky, who was constantly peeking around. His eyes were drifting towards the window and the entrance all the time.

The waitress placed two menu in front of us and left. I pushed one over to Bucky and read mine with anticipation. Man I was hungry. "Are you ready?" I asked, locking my eyes on one of those mouthing watering sandwich picture.

"What?"

Glancing up at Bucky, I realized he hadn't even touched his menu. "Have you picked out your breakfast yet?" I questioned once more, feeling slightly at loss of the situation. Bucky frowned. I pointed at his menu, sliding it even closer to him. The man dropped his head to look at it, strips of dark hair into his frame.

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