Anamnesis [Lacuna #2] {Completed}

Chapter One

"Metanoia (n.) The journey of changing one's mind, heart, self, or way of life."

October 2017

~Bucky~

Bucky woke with a start. Cold sweat clung to his forehead as he willed his hammering heart to slow. For a moment he couldn't remember where he was or where he was headed. It felt like his whole world was going to collapse beneath him.

            Then he looked over.

He saw Erin curled up in a ball still sleeping peacefully in the co-pilot seat of the jet, her cheek resting gently against the back of her hand.

            Just the sight of her reminded him who he was, like she was his anchor. He watched her for a few moments, taking in every detail of her peaceful face. The slow steady rhythm of her breathing sent a calm feeling through him that enabled him to push away the thoughts that had been plaguing his mind the last few days.

            As the morning light crept over the window of the plane, illuminating her features further, the fear that had stolen him when he woke up was replaced with a dull ache in his chest. It was an ache he had fought with since the day he had met Erin McCall. It was constantly fueled by the million reasons he thought up every day that argued why he did not deserve to have her by his side right now. For those million reason, he did not know why on earth she had agreed to follow him into hell. Why would someone like Erin ever get stuck with someone like him? 

He felt a sudden urge to reach out and touch her just to make sure she was real, just to make sure she was there with him. He needed reassurance that she wasn't some figment of his imagination.

Erin shifted slightly in her seat, causing a loose strand of hair from her bun to fall in her face. Before Bucky could think, he reached out and stroked it away from her eyes.

What are you doing here with me, Erin? Bucky thought. For a moment he wished he hadn't let Clint convince him to stay that night. He should have left. Maybe the ache in his chest wouldn't feel as heavy as it did now. Sometimes he wished he hadn't been so weak. Sometimes he wished he didn't need her so much. 

            Erin stirred from under his fingertips. Bucky's doubts slipped away from him as Erin blinked open her brown eyes and looked up. All his fears melted away when she smiled. "Good morning," He whispered to her.

            She stretched her arms, "Good morning." She smiled and sat up in the co-pilot seat. "Are we there?" She asked rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

            "We're just outside the city." He said quietly rubbing his thumb against her cheek.

            Erin tilted her head and fixed her gaze on him, her brown eyes soft in the morning light. Memories flickered across Bucky's mind.

His mother's smile as she made soft caramels at Christmas time. His sister, Rebecca, sitting in front of their father's legs as he sat in his chair smoking his pipe and reading the newspaper. Bucky would watch his mother drip the brown liquid sugar onto sheets of wax paper to let them dry into soft gooey treats.

"Bucky?" Erin's voice pulled him back to the present. She took his hand from her cheek into in her own, "Are you sure you're ready? New York isn't... the same as it used to be."

Bucky nodded his head, "I know." He had been to New York countless times and had watched the evolution for himself, but he had never thought anything of it. There had only been one thing that mattered then. "I have to be." He said quietly.

Erin nodded, "We can take it slow, we don't have to see everything in one day. If it gets to be too much, we can always head back for the jet. I also know some people in New York, people I trust."

Bucky was hesitant. He didn't trust anyone, even if Erin did. Uncertainty clouded his mind. He looked out the window and watched people in the distance already starting their walk to work. "Won't someone... recognize me?"

            "That's the beauty of New York," Erin replied getting up from the co-pilot seat. "There are so many people trying to get someplace so fast that they don't ever notice the faces they pass on their way." Bucky watched her rummage through the closet near the hanger. She pulled out a baseball cap and a pair of sunglasses and handed it to him.

            "What? No disguise for you?" He asked, taking the disguise from her.

            Erin laughed and headed towards the back of the jet where they stored their belongings, "My face hasn't been plastered on every police scanner on this half of the hemisphere." She rummaged through her bag and pulled out a red beanie. She took out her bun and let her brown hair fall past her shoulders before pulling the beanie over her head. "Happy?" She asked smiling back at him.

"I suppose it will do," He said smiling back at her. Erin turned away from him as she pulled out her grandfather's old box. Well technically it wasn't his anymore. He had given it to Erin as a Christmas present. She had shown it to Bucky for the first time a few weeks ago. After rummaging through some of his old research, they had found a way to permanently fix his arm so that he could have full use of it again.

Bucky couldn't remember everything about Matthew McCall, the man who had been his friend and bunkmate during his time with the 107th, but the more time he spent with Erin, the more little things came back to him. If there was one thing Bucky did know, it was that Erin was so like Matthew. Even now, the way she was searching for something in that old box made Bucky remember how Matt would chew on the inside of his cheek when he was nervous or thinking hard like Erin was.

"Ah, ha!" She finally said holding up a white flash of something and heading back towards the co-pilot seat.

"What's that?" Bucky asked.

            Erin held up what looked like an old piece of paper, "Do you remember where your house was?"

Bucky hadn't thought about it. He actually hadn't thought much about what would happen in Brooklyn once he and Erin arrived. He just had a feeling it was the best place to start. His eyebrows scrunched together. He was suddenly unsure of what exactly it was that he was looking for.

"That's where you wanted to start right? Your family?" He could sense the caution in Erin's voice.

Family. He had a family. He remembered a house with blue shutters; his mother working in the kitchen and his little sister working on her homework at the table, but he couldn't remember exactly where the house had been. "I..." He trailed off, unable to think of anything to say.

"Hey," She said soothingly as she sat back down beside him. He looked up to meet her gaze. Her eyes were still soft and understanding. She held up the piece of paper again. As he looked at it closer, he recognized it as a letter. She handed it to him to look at.

He took it in his hand, examining the yellowing paper and the old postage stamp. It was dated. The exact date was faded, but the year was clear. 1945.

"My grandfather wrote this to your family shortly after you... died." Bucky looked back up at Erin, "It still has the address printed on the envelope." She said. "We'll start there."

A small piece of hope started to open up in Bucky's chest. He was going to see his home.

"How do you move on? 

You move on when your heart finally understands that there is no turning back."

-J.R.R. Tolkien