chapter ten // nightmares

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"How can I sleep, if I don't have dreams? I just have nightmares."
-Staying Up by The Neighborhood

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reyna's point of view

The lady at the checkout counter's eyes were bulging out of her head when I went to pay.

"M'am, are you alright? Do you want me to call someone?" she asked, her voice hushed as she looked at me with concern. I probably looked like a wild animal, and the blood stains on my clothes didn't really help my case. I shook my head and swiped my stolen blue credit card, signing for the purchase when I was prompted to.

"I'm fine, just been a rough couple of days. All I need is the stuff I just bought," I replied, gesturing to my items on the other side of the counter. She gave me a wary glance and slowly passed me one of the bags of clothes, bandages and toiletries I'd just purchased.

"Are you sure? The police can help you find somewhere safe to go," she tried again. I resisted the urge to laugh. As if the police could handle the Winter Soldier.

"I'll be ok. Thanks though," I said, taking the rest of my bags from her hands and flashing her one more smile before heading out the door.

Bucky and I had agreed before entering that the wanted fugitive should probably avoid public places as much as possible, so I'd been the one that had to go in and buy the stuff we needed to survive another couple of days. We couldn't totally avoid Bucky being in public for much longer, seeing as we were headed to a public motel next, but it was best to avoid it where we could.

I plunged back into the woods with the three grocery bags in my hands. Bucky was standing right where I left him and he turned around when I stepped into the clearing. I put the bags down.

"I grabbed some clothes for the both of us. Two outfits each, plus a jacket so you could cover your arm. I also got a backpack to carry stuff and a few other things we might need," I breathed, a little winded from lugging this stuff across the street when I already had trouble walking. He nodded and bent down, sifting through what I'd bought and pulling out new clothes to change into. I reached into the other bag and yanked out an outfit for myself.

Turning, I stepped out of the small clearing and behind a patch of trees to change. I slipped on a pair of black leggings, sneakers, a sports bra and a tank top, sighing in relief when I could finally peal off my disgusting torn-up shirt from the base. The feeling of wearing clean clothes, even cheap ones, was like heaven compared to what I'd been wearing before. I ditched the old clothes and headed back to the clearing to see Bucky already dressed in a dark jacket and jeans, with the backpack I'd purchased slung over his shoulder. I wondered how on earth he'd changed so friggin fast.

"Ready?" He asked, his eyes scanning my outfit once briefly before settling back on my face. I nodded and we set out again, this time walking a little closer to the street so we could see better. We passed several more broken down houses and farmers markets until finally we came across a small building. A sign outside read Queen Anne's Motel.

After a short trip to the office, we were assigned to room six, right on the corner of the building. The rickety door swung open after a few jolts and we were greeted with a couch, a small tv, two twin beds and a bathroom. There were cobwebs in the corners of the ceiling and everything was covered in a fine layer of filth, but it wasn't a prison cell, so I breathed a sigh of relief.

I walked towards the first bed and plopped down with a sigh. It was quite possibly the comfiest bed I'd ever laid on. Bucky laid down beside me.

"This is the first time I've laid in a bed, a real bed, since 1944," he breathed, and I looked sideways to see a grin stretched across his face. My heart thumped with both pain and happiness. It wasn't fair that he could say that and have it be true, but at the very least, his days of suffering were behind him.

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