The War Was In Color

It all started when Bucky was walking around the Smithsonian museum. He had been been away from hydra for a while now and staying with Steve. But he still liked to go to the museum. It sometimes helped him recover some memories or fill in missing holes that were in his mind. This was a weekly endeavor. Steve would go to the Avengers tower, thinking Bucky was still back at the shared apartment. And sure he was, for the first fifteen minutes of Steve leaving. Now the soldier wasn't trying to be sneaky, he just didn't want the captain to worry about anything. So he waited. As soon as the fifteen minutes were up, Bucky would grab his phone that Stark gave him and the keys before leaving and locking up. With his hood pulled up over his baseball hat covered head, his hands tucked into his pocket, he made his way down the streets. No one really payed that much attention to the soldier. He made sure to keep to himself the whole way.

The walk was sorta a long one, but once Bucky entered the Smithsonian, he headed straight to the section about Captain America and the Howling Commandos. No one ever realized who Bucky was. The people were interested with the things on the wall. Bucky made sure to stay back from the crowd. He really didn't want to be noticed by anyone. He hated the looks some people gave him. However, this one particular day, Bucky was standing in the back like he always did but a little kid made his way over to the soldier and tugged at his sleeve. Bucky's eyes darted down quickly at the small child. He wasn't taller than his knee. With a lick of his lips, Bucky cleared his throat.

"Can I uh, help you?" He asked quietly, trying to keep others from noticing him.

The small boy's smile grew even more.

"You're Bucky Barnes!" He exclaimed.

Bucky knelt down so he was more at the same level as the child and put his finger up to his lips.

"Not so loud." He said, looking around at the others. No one had noticed him. Good.

The little child beamed even more when The soldier was face to face with him.

"Can you tell me some stories? Was it really like the old war movies?" The child's voice got higher with excitement as he asked his questions.

Bucky sighed a little at the question. Of course he would remember the war the most out of everything he had been through. He couldn't remember his sisters name all the time, but he could recall his time in the army.

Bucky lifted his head and saw a few chairs a few feet from them.

"Lets go sit." He said, Standing up tall as he headed over to the blue chairs that faced Captain America.

The little boy followed Bucky over and climbed up onto the seat. Once Bucky saw the boy was comfortable on the chair, the brunette took a seat next to him and let out a sigh.

"Where to begin... Let's start with the end." He paused, looking up at the black and white photo of the Howling Commandos.

"This black and white photo don't capture the skin, from the flash of a gun, to a soldier who is done. Trust me, the war was in color." And just like that, Bucky was immersed into the memory of the war.

"From shipyard to sea, from factory to sky. From rivet to rifle, from bootcamp to battle cry." People that were wondering around that part of the museum began to turn their heads once they realized what was happening.

"I wore the mask up high on a daylight run that held my face in its clammy hand. Crawled over coconut logs and corpuses in the coral sand. From the shock of a shell, or the memory of smell.If red is for hell, the war was in color." As Bucky recited the memories, his eyes never once left the slide show that was on the wall in front of him, showing all of the pictures the museum could get of the famous group. They were showing them running through the crossfires, carrying canvas bags over their heads. But what they didn't show, was the bodies that were being burned at that time, the metal that was churning. Or how they really earned that victory.

"Now I lay in my grave at age 21," Bucky's grave was the falling off the train, that was where he knew the old Bucky Barnes, the man he use to be, died.

"long before you were born." The boy beamed at that.

"What good did it do? Well hopefully for you, a world without war, a life full of color." The soldier paused one last time before he turned his gaze to the boy. Not even noticing the crowd that had surrounded the pair.

"Where to begin? Let's start from the end, the black and white photo never captured my skin. Once it was torn from an enemy thorn, straight from the core. The war was in color." Bucky's eyes moved from the boys to the crowd. Before the soldier had time to respond, the little boy rose from the chair and practically through himself at the brunette.

"You have always been my favorite" He whispered into Bucky's ear before climbing down and running off to his mom.

Maybe the world was finally in color...