Buzzkill [Winter Soldier]

Chapter 45

Two days before Christmas the entire city of Bucharest lit up with thousands of lights and decorations that added an unexplainable joy to everyone living there. There was a gentle snow on the ground that made Ruth feel at peace about being in this place. It was hard to think about the inevitable future, but she had to leave soon. James was doing well in recovering his memories, and his nightmares were already getting easier for him. Throughout the few months of their being in Bucharest, neither of them had any problems with showing up on the news or run ins with anyone who recognized them. Because of how safe they felt, and with the beauty of the festive city, Ruth and James would even take walks through the snowy paths around the low-traffic streets and sidewalks.

For James, the Christmas feeling throughout the town reminded him of a comfort he once had. But it also brought back a flood of memories that were often too painful to even want to write down. That night, both Ruth and James sat around their apartment with the lights of the city shining through their window, their miniature Christmas tree sitting in the corner with a handful of ornaments.

Sitting on the bed, James tried to write the memories that were swimming around in his mind. The pain of all the time he had lost from his past life, that he would never be able to recover or go back to, became overwhelming.

Thinking of Christmas morning, he remembered his parents and a couple of the many traditions he and his family used to share. He thought about his mother, and how horrible it must have been to get the telegram telling her that her son had been killed in action. How awful it must have been to go through Christmas that year without one of her sons. James' chest tightened and his heart ached with emotion thinking about how distraught his mother would have been if she had seen the horrific things he's done in the last seventy years. He felt his eyes become warm as tears blurred his vision of the notebook he was writing in. Why was he crying? It's useless to cry now. There's no going back. He could never go back.

Ruth heard him trying to cry silently and knew he was holding back from letting go in fear of feeling weak. She didn't say anything to him. There wasn't anything to say that wouldn't want to make him completely shut down and retreat back into his mind. Instead, Ruth stood up, quietly walked over, and sat next to James and placed her hand on his back. That was the only thing he needed to completely break down and sob uncontrollably. The more he wept, the more the heart-breaking memories filled his mind. At first he just continued to hunch over and cry into his arms where he sat with Ruth gently caressing his back. As the crying and heaving continued, Ruth wrapped her arms around him and held him for as long as he needed.

"I'm sorry... I'm so sorry," He repeated over and over again.

It was an hour before the sobs started to slow down and his breathing became steady. When his mind settled down, he let go of Ruth slightly and wiped his face with the sleeve of his shirt. Ruth stood up and walked to the bathroom to grab a bunch of tissues. The shoulder of her t-shirt was soaked with tears that were filled with pain, but she didn't care. It was the first time she had ever seen him cry and she knew he needed it.

"Thank you," James weakly muttered when Ruth handed him the tissues. "It just hurts," James started, his voice cracking and his eyes on the verge of tears. "It physically hurts to know that I can never go back and change what I've done. I can never go back and see my family one last time and tell them I survived the war."

Ruth just listened.

"If Bucky Barnes was the one who died a hero, then who am I?" His worn and tearful eyes looked into Ruth's for an answer.

"You're James. A man brave enough to leave the only home he's known for the past seventy years because of the good in him. A man who went back into a place he knew could kill him because he wanted to save someone who was too damaged to save herself."

More tears filled his eyes as he tried to believe what she was saying.

Ruth looked him in the eyes, "You are so much more than what they've made you to be."

James' eyes were tired and Ruth could see his heart was hurting, "Why aren't you afraid of me?"

"It's like you said the first time we met, I'm just like you."