Neighbors | Bucky Barnes

Chapter 3

Bucky Barnes blew out a deep breath, pacing his new living room a few times before stopping in front of the kitchen counters. He placed his hands, palms down, on the counter flexing his arms involuntarily.

*What just happened?*

Bucky thought back to what had transpired not more than ten minutes ago.

***
"Bucky? That's an interesting name. Is it short for something?" the girl  asked. Her face read curiosity, that could be dangerous.

Curiosity lead to investigating. She could end up looking into his past. Seeing that he was not who he said he was. A 26-year-old man, traveling abroad. If only that were true. Instead, he was a 90-something-year-old ex-Nazi assassin, who had been best friends with Captain America in the '40s. Yeah, this is going to be a disaster.

"No, nothing that you need to know."

The less she knew the better.

The dog growled at Bucky and took a protective stance in front of the girl, Adela.

"No, be good. We're just talking. I swear..." she pointed a finger at the dog and trailed off her sentence in exasperation. She looked up, "Where are you from? You have a different accent," she looked at me *curiously*.

Bucky kept glancing down at the dog and moved his left hand to the pocket of his dark hoodie. It was as if the dog could see right through him.

"Uh - America, originally."

"Oh, my mother was American. She was from New York, actually." Adela seemed to be stuck in her memories of the past. Bucky could relate. The past grips you tight and never lets go.

She gazed down at the carpeted floor, but soon raised her caramel eyes up to meet his, with a tight lipped smile gracing her face.

"I'm just going to let you finish unpacking. I don't want to be a bother."

***

That was exactly what Bucky was trying to prevent. The interaction of people that was not needed. They could turn him in, he was still a wanted man in most countries. If caught, he could face life in prison, though probably more like death.

Bucky started pacing again. He tried not to think about this. The more anxious he became, the more likely he would have slipped up. Hiding from the American government was hard enough, but he also had to hide from Steve Rogers and his friends.

Bucky glanced around his apartment. The springy mattress on the floor and the blinds covering the windows from the sun shining into the conjoined rooms.

"What am I doing?" He muttered.

After the events in Washington D.C., Bucky had pulled his once and only friend out of the Potomac River and ended up settling in the capital for a few months, hiding in back alleys and abandoned buildings. Doing everything to avoid Steve.

And the memories - damn the memories. They came in flashes, each of them, and they never really made any sense. They were just sounds and images moving to create people, places, and things Bucky once knew.

He could recall a boy, about nine or ten years old, filling the toe of his shoes with old newspapers his mother threw away. The shoes were about three sizes too big for him. And he remembered a woman, who he had been quite close to, feeding him and letting him stay at her house to play with the boy.

These must have been part of his past. The boy was most likely Steve Rogers - Captain America now to most people.

Each of his memories -nightmares - created a panic within him. He was trying to get past all the electroshock Hydra had done to him. They had imprinted the pain into his head.

Bucky decided to just get some rest. He lay on the uncovered mattress that sat on the floor. He eyed the water-stained ceiling and drifted off.

A.N. // Hey guys! Sorry it's been really long since I last posted. I've had a lot going on, but I'm trying to get some writing in.

Hope you liked it!