Till the End of the Line

Hero (ONESHOT)

Note: Hey guys! In honor of Valentine's Day, I'm going to write a small happy chapter. This may or may not be a glimpse into the future...anyways, happy National Memorial of a Saint Being Beheaded by a Tyrant King Day! (look it up)

Bucky hated snow, because it reminded him of Siberia. The cold was something he never wanted to experience again. It also reminded him of Becca's silver hair. Although, New York snow was not as crisp and pure as the snow he was used to. It didn't matter anyways, he had work to do, so he'd braved the cold. Bundling up, he headed to the grocery store to buy supplies. 

He was 107 years old now, though physically and mentally he was about 25, and Becca wasn't that far behind. They'd both been frozen, tortured, brainwashed, and frozen again too many times to count. Bucky still didn't have all the memories, but he still kept the notebooks in the bookshelf by his bed, writing down every nightmare, every memory, every glimpse of the past. 

New York was both familiar and alien to him, all the roads were different, the technology had definitely gotten better, not to mention the quality of life. But the bustle and hum of the city was comforting to him, the feeling of people jostling him, the same rudeness that had always been the staple of New York was still the same. 

The bell dinged over the door of the small shop as he walked in, and he jumped out of habit, immediately tilting his head down to keep away from any security cameras. He headed straight for the produce; it still amazed him all the food that was available now. When he'd first come into a grocery store, he stood there, staring like a maniac. Becca had been the same way when they'd found a library, reading was a luxury that had been taken away from her for so long, and it made Bucky smile when she was able to rekindle that love for literature.

He held up the recipe he'd spent hours trying to figure out how to print, it was a simple dish that he remembered his parents make for him, back before his Ma died and his dad got in his accident. Spaghetti and meatballs may not have been the most romantic dinner, but it worked for Lady and the Tramp (they'd been catching up on movies, Bucky thought that one was a little silly.)

When he'd found and paid for the items-in cash of course-he headed back to their little apartment. Bucky had never done Valentine's Day before. That he could remember anyways, but he wanted to do it right for Becca. They weren't officially dating, but she was the one constant in his life since they'd been on the run, and he wanted to let her know just how much he cared for her.

So, he got to work. Boiling the pasta was fairly easy, but making the meatballs proved a harder task than expected. For one thing, his metal hand didn't have any feeling, so when he'd roll a meatball, it usually ended up getting squished because he didn't know how much pressure he was putting on it. Also, he'd never cooked anything before. when he finally had the food cooking like it was supposed to, he went about cleaning the small apartment where they lived. It wasn't much, a table, to chairs, two small mattresses they'd found for cheap. They'd learned to pack light and leave no trail. 

When Becca got home, she was excited. She'd gotten Bucky something on her way back from her job and she couldn't wait to give it to him. a leather jacket with an American flag patch on the left shoulder. When she burst into their room she stopped. She smelled something really good, and the apartment was clean, but Bucky was nowhere to be found. 

"Hey Bucky?" She kicked off her combat boots and started to search for him. She finally found him hidden in the broom closet, clutching his head. She immediately drops to her knees and wraps her arms around him. 

"Wanna talk about it?"

Bucky shook his head, instead he leans his head on her shoulder and inhales the scent of her hair. It always calmed him down. he mumbled something into her shoulder and sighed. Becca chuckled.

"What was that?"

He lifted his head. 

"I burnt my hand. I dunno...my head started to unravel."

He sighed.

"I wanted to make today...special. I wanted to do something for you. You do so much for me, putting up with all this..." 

He trails off as he gestures at himself. He stares into her eyes sadly.

"I can't even cook a simple dinner without somehow being helpless."

He buried his face into her hair, pulling her closer.

Becca mulls over his words before finally whispering softly,

"Bucky, you're my hero, you know that right?"

Bucky pauses, looking confused.

"I...what? I'm no hero, I'm anything but."

She shook her head.

"To me, you're a hero. Have been since the Red Room. I just never admitted it because...well I hated you."

She laughs and plays with a strand of his silky brown hair. 

"But...yeah. You're my hero. And if you need me to...I'd like to be your hero too."

That last part sort of slipped out, but she meant it with everything in her. 

Bucky sniffled, fighting back tears.

"Doll...I... you don't know how much that means to me." 

Becca smiles and turns to kiss him on the forehead. 

"Happy Valentine's Day Bucky. Now, let's go check on that food before it burns down the house, hm?"