Soldier Boy (Avengers/Winter Solider Fanfic)

Thirty-Eight

"I didn't grow up with many loving relationships," her words were soft as she continued. "So I don't have much to compare to, but I think love is supposed to feel like this." Bucky felt her grip tighten slightly as she squeezed his hand. 

"What does this feel like? Tell me."

Melody was quiet for several seconds as she thought about her answer. "It's like being able to breathe."

Bucky pulled away, keeping a lose grip on her waist so he could look at her face. Her features were still partly hidden by her glossy hair. "I don't understand." He reached up and brushed away her hair to reveal her face, her mouth was drawn into a sort of half-smile and her eyes were closed.

"I've never been able to breathe James," she said, opening her eyes and glancing at him. "I've always had to be careful. I've always had to watch every move I make and everything I do and I've had to do that every moment of my life. It's what kept me alive. And after...what happened, I never lost it because that kept me out of jail."

Bucky grimaced. "I can't imagine what that had to have been like for you, keeping all those secrets for so long." 

"But I don't need to be so careful now because with you, I have nothing to hide. I'm safe with you." She leaned into him then, shut her eyes and sighed. "I can finally breathe." She beamed then and leaned into him. "And I can't thank you enough for it."

"You don't need to thank me," Bucky whispered, pressing his face into her sweet-smelling hair. The scent was something he could easily get drunk on if he let himself do it. "It's nothing."

"Coming from someone who went without it, love is everything. Real love anyways, not that shit Moria tried to pass off as love."

A hard note crept into her voice at that. "She always said he loved us, every time he'd finish with me she'd tell me that Daddy loved me and was just confused." Melody scoffed and Bucky felt a tremor run up and down her body. "Stupid woman. She said that while she poured peroxide down my back and told me not to scream. And god, if I couldn't stay quiet...He'd come back and I paid with blood." The shaking quickened and she flung her arms around Bucky's torso, holding tight to him as though he was an anchor that was holding her in the present.  She cut off, unable to say more and Bucky didn't say much either, just murmuring words of comfort in both English and Russian and unsure of what else he could do. Traumatic memories, he knew were impossible to keep at bay forever and he knew how real they felt. Sometimes there was nothing to be done except wait for them to pass, hard as that was to do.

These memories for Melody, old as they were still caused her pain and this house was full of them. Every corner she looked around, every room she entered was full of screams of the child she used to be and the memory of the broken family she'd been born into. The father who'd been her monster and the mother who'd failed her.

She shouldn't be here, Bucky thought as he stroked her hair. It's like sending me back to an old Hyrda base. Bucky shuddered at the thought. At all the memories that would lurk around every corner, the cryo machines, the handlers that ordered him to kill and every moment in between...The idea of being surrounded by the memories, going back to the place it all happened made him feel sick.And yet Melody was here. In that old house where her torment had occurred for over a decade, surrounded by every ghost and terrible memory she had and it  was because Bucky was there and needed her in ways he'd never needed anyone in his life.

He needed her to be there when he slept, to pull him out of the nightmares of his past and back to the present with her. He needed to hear her sing when sleep was too distant a friend. He needed to hold her, at night when he slept and even during the day, just to be sure she was really there, really needed his touch the way he needed hers. Bucky needed to hear animated tales of work and the surgeries she performed that day and watch as her eyes lit up as she explained what each procedure entailed and how she had done it.  Bucky needed those things. But what Melody needed was to get the hell out of that house. But he didn't want her to leave either... There has to be a compromise somewhere, Bucky thought even as Melody began to relax. And after a moment of thought it hit him, there was more to this property than just the house. There was a woods all around it too.

"Are you alive?" he whispered and he heard Melody chuckle at his use of her usual night-time phrase.

"I'm okay now," she said, stepping back from him just a bit, her eyes red from her tears.  "Thank you-for staying."

"I can say that to you," he said and he pressed a quick kiss to her forehead. "For being here all the time." He grinned then, feeling a bit reckless. "Get some warm clothes on okay? We're getting out of here."

Melody blinked several times and shook her head."James, we can't-."

"I didn't say we were going into the city," he said, tracing the shape of her cheekbone with his fingertips. "Just trust me-go put on some warm clothes and meet me outside." Melody gave him another skeptical look and Bucky shook his head. "Don't you trust me?"

"Yes but-."

"Then do what I say, please. Just trust me on this. We need to get out of here for a while."

Melody bit her lip, eyes darting around the room, no doubt seeing the shadows of her past all around her. Finally, she caved in and looked back at Bucky. "Fine, but if I think, even for a moment that you're in danger I will drag you back here-got it?"

"Yes Doctor Freezer," Bucky teased. "Now go. Get changed."

Melody walked past him, a small smile on her face and eyes shining as though she was fighting back a laugh. As soon as she was gone up the stairs and he heard the click of their bedroom door shutting, Bucky went upstairs as well and dug around in the room had that been his once. He grabbed a few of the blankets off the bed, the ones that wasn't covered in old, blackened blood. He wasn't going to bring one of Melody's ghosts out with them when they went camping.

I hope it doesn't rain, he thought as he draped the thick quilts over his arm.

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