Flesh and Bone ◇ Bucky Barnes ◇

Chapter XXXIII: Romania

Joana

Bucky made her sleep on their couch. He slept on the mattress on the floor. Joana never stopped worrying if he was cold.
It wasn't like either of them slept much anyway. Bucky remembered her, but he didn't remember her. He didn't remember her name (she had to remind him that her name wasn't 'Partner', that it was actually Joana) and he didn't really remember anything of their childhood. He sometimes remembered Steve, but only when he was born and that they were friends. And when he did sleep, he had nightmares.
Joana didn't sleep for for of Bucky's nightmares making him The Soldier again. Her fears weren't misplaced. On one of the first nights they came to Romania and their run down apartment, Joana heard (not being asleep herself) Bucky murmuring, begging, rolling back and forth on the mattress. Joana was off the couch and across the floor by his side in seconds. She reached out to shake his shoulders and wake him up when his eyes snapped open. They weren't his eyes, though. They were the Soldier's; cold, deep, and unfeeling.
He looked at her, saw her as someone looming above him, and went into attack mode. He jumped from the mattress and pinned her to the ground with one hand, his metal fist raised in the air, ready to strike.
"It's me, James, it's me. It's your Partner, Joana," she said, her voice low and full of fear. His metal fist clenched and unclenched, his face shifting between stages of confusion.
"You're safe, I promise."
At this, his eyes shifted back to normal and his mouth fell open. His metal hand fell open and he rolled off of her, breathing heavily. He looked over at Joana, who slowly sat up as she tried to shake away the fear.
"James-"
Bucky stood and backed away from her, shaking his own head slowly. Joana stood as well and slowly approached him.
"It's okay. Don't be afraid."
Bucky, however, turned away from her and left their apartment, slamming the door behind him with a bang that shook the apartment and her body.
Joana stood in the middle of the apartment, terrified to move. When she could finally stand no longer, she moved towards the couch and sat there, watching and waiting for the door to open and for Bucky to return. However, dawn came and he still had to return, but she had to go to work. Fighting against everything inside of her that told her to stay or to go out and look for him, Joana dressed herself and made her way to her job.
Leaving her apartment was always so surreal. Inside, it was dusty and broken and old and abandoned and reminded her of being back at the HYDRA base. It seemed dumb, but it felt safe. The peeling paint and the rats and the rust and the mold. It felt like home.
Yet outside was foreign. Every time she stepped outside of the run down apartment building, she wanted to cry. It wasn't 1940 anymore. Even if it was, it wasn't America. It wasn't Brooklyn. It wasn't home. And there were so many people. Too many people. She kept to the small streets. The fear of the people around her made it impossible to walk through the busy streets. Surprisingly, Bucky was better with people than she was. Which was why he had a better job than she did. A much better job. Maybe it was because he could say that he was part of the military at one point. Maybe it was because he had a calmer disposition than she did. Maybe it was because he was white. Maybe it was because he was a he. Whatever the reason, Joana was stuck working in a cockroach infested restaurant as a dishwasher in the back where no one had to talk to her and there was no one for her to put in a choke hold. Joana was fine with the long hours and the heat and the ache in her feet. She would take up extra shifts and work overtime and she never complained and that was the only reason her boss kept her after she beat up that one guy that one time.
Joana liked her job because it kept her mind off of all the things that made her want to scream. The hot water and the pain in her feet grounded her. The steam burned her nose and distracted her from the smells of blood and cooking flesh from the kitchen. The spray of water filled her ears so she didn't have to hear the knives or the people talking. The consistency and fast pace of her job made it impossible for her mind to wander to the unthinkable things. She could stand there for more than 10 hours and work with minimal breaks and very little food. And her boss loved her for it.
She never fought with her other employees. She never interacted with them. Instead she just ignored them. There were costumers who tried to hit on her when she was on her break. They were promptly banned from the property. The people of Bucharest who came to this small restaurant knew well enough not to mess with the pretty, dark skinned dishwasher when she was on break, or any other woman inside the building.
For all the distractions that the job provided for Joana always fell away as night fell and the restaurant closed and she was forced to go back to the outside world where people were still awake, where there were still cars and buses and clothes and cameras and cellphones and buildings that were taller than trees and hardly anyone smoking except the homeless man on the side of the street. She would have to go back to her apartment where Bucky was waiting, where they would sit and talk. He would tell her about his day and she would tell him about hers. They would eat. He would tell her what he remembered or that he remembered something and then promptly forgot it. She would smile and tell him that he would remember soon enough. He would ask her to tell him about herself, about their past together. She would tell him the same thing she always did.
"You know I can't do that, James."
And then they would go to their beds and lay awake. And there would be no more distractions to stop Joana's brain from filing through every single thing that she hated remembering. She would think of her family. She would think about being so free yet so trapped. She and Bucky weren't...normal. They wouldn't be allowed in society. No other society but this. She hated herself because every night she came to the same conclusion; she wanted to go back. Back to HYDRA and Pierce and Danika. Back to Russia and her lonely chair. She was safe there, safer than out here.
She would try to convince herself that she always meant she wanted to go back to Brooklyn in the 40s, to when she was with her Gram and Winnie and Steve and Bucky. She was always so confused and so hurt and so lonely and so terrified. Unbearably terrified. When she was sure that Bucky was lost in his own thoughts and no longer paying attention to her, she would cry. The tears would just roll down from her eyes and she would press her arm into her mouth to keep the sobs from rousing Bucky. She would cry until the sun rose.
However, tonight, that didn't happen. When she came into her apartment after walking through the overcrowded streets of Bucharest, Bucky was sitting on the couch. He never sat on the couch. Seeing him sent anger sparking throughout Joana's body that she tried to hide with a cough.
"Where were you?" She asked as she set her money and the few things she bought for dinner on the table. His head was in his hands. He shook his head. "Don't do that. Don't shut me out. Where were you?"
He still didn't respond, which made the anger in her chest almost burst.
"I was worried sick," she said through clenched teeth. "You could have been killed for all I knew. I-"
"I was going to kill you," he said, his voice so thick with emotion that her anger deflated in seconds. Joana took a step towards him.
"You wouldn't have killed me."
"You don't understand, Joana. I was going to kill you." Joana's heart slammed against her chest. He never called her Joana, only 'Partner'. "I was ready to kill you. I was him again. And you were just there and I was...I was going to...-"
His head went back to his hands. Joana clenched her jaw, trying to keep her tears at bay. They didn't much talk about what happened to them both in HYDRA, mostly because they both wanted to forget. It was unusual for Bucky to even acknowledge the Soldier's existence. Joana swallowed her pride and her fear and walked across the room to Bucky. She sat beside him. He didn't move.
"You wouldn't have killed me," she told him quietly. He still didn't respond, so she slowly reached up to put an arm around his shoulders. He flinched when her arm first grazed him, but he leaned in to her seconds later, telling her that she was fine to put her arm around him. As soon as she was holding him, she could hear him crying.
Nothing had ever broken her more. His screams were echoes compared to the sound of his quiet sobs. She put her other arm around his front, pulling him even closer to her. So she held him there, against her chest, and for the first time she thought everything might be okay.
"It is okay," she told herself out loud so he could here. "We're okay." She kissed the top of his head, knotting her hands in his hair. He held on to her arms as if she was the only thing that kept him from falling into a black abyss.
And when he couldn't cry anymore, they just say there.
"I couldn't have killed you," he told her. "Even if I tried. You're too stubborn."
Joana laughed.
"That's true. I wouldn't have given up without a fight, either."
"Well, it's good to know that there is someone who can keep me at bay if he comes back."
"James, the Winter Soldier is dead as long as you're in control. He can't come back unless you let him," she told him, putting a hand on his cheek and smiling. She knew his trigger words were still floating about somewhere, but it was best not to dwell on the fact that someone could get a hold of them.
"We should sleep," she told him. "I've got work tomorrow and you probably do too."
Bucky nodded and stood. Joana's arms felt empty as he left and she grew suddenly cold. She thought, as she Bucky turned off the small light and she lay down on the couch, that things might be better from here on out, especially between the two of them. Hopefully it would be less awkward.
Somehow, Joana managed to close her eyes long enough to dream. For the first time since their escape from HYDRA, Joana actually slept.
And she wished she hadn't.
Her eyes snapped open, sweat pouring from her face and chest. Tears rolled down her cheeks. Her breathing was ragged. Pain littered her body; her neck, her hand, her leg, her head, her stomach. She was tied to a chair in a blank room. No windows, no doors, just her and the man in front of her. His back was turned to her, so she couldn't see his face.
"Where I am?" Joana asked, her voice hoarse, the words scratching her throat. Where was Bucky? How did this man take her without noticing? What was going on?
The man said nothing and continued rummaging through whatever he was doing. Joana pulled against the chains that were around her wrists and her breath left her lungs.
"No, no, no, no, no, no," she whispered, tears springing into her eyes. Her throat closed up and she felt like vomiting. "Not again, not again."
The man turned around finally and Joana wanted to scream.
He was Pierce.
But he was also Aleksi.
And the Commander.
And the Doctor.
And Doctor Salazar.
And Karpov.
And Rumlow.
He was everyone she hated and everyone she feared. He was here with her, alone in the room with no one to save her and no one to protect her and no where to go. She was just as weak as she always had been. She was everything she hated.
The mutation of the man stepped towards her with a scalpel. Joana pulled away from from him as much as she could, pushing against the chair that was bolted into the ground, pulling on the chains around her ankles and wrists.
"Please," she begged. She was so tired. So tired of this. She just wanted to go home.
He pressed the scalpel to her flesh and it didn't matter where because it burned throughout her entire body like a red hot fire. She screamed and she screamed and she cried and she begged and she was so tired. So tired of trying. So tired of living.
"I give up," she sobbed as he took the scalpel away from her. "I give up. I'm done. Please, just kill me."
"No, don't say that," a voice said from beside her, a quiet voice, a calm voice, a voice of reason, but she couldn't see the face. "Don't give up. Not yet, Joana."
"But I'm so tired."
"Don't let them win."
"Let them win, let me die. I give up."
Bucky appeared beside her. It was Bucky, not the Winter Soldier, not James Barnes of Romania. It was Bucky, her Bucky. He knelt beside her with a smile. He pushed her hair out of her eyes and behind her ears. He wiped away her tears. He stood with a hand on her face. He leaned down to kiss her, but before his lips touched hers, his hand shifted away from her face and towards her neck. She gasped and snapped her eyes open.
With a scream and a sob, she threw herself off of the couch she had fallen asleep on. Whimpering, she scurried across the ground like a dazed rat. Where was she? Where was the man with the scalpel? Where was the room? Where was Bucky? Her back hit a wall and she stopped, her eyes flitting about the dark room, looking for the man and for Bucky.
And then finally she saw him. Bucky. He was standing and rushing at her, his hands reaching out to grab her.
"No!" She cried, putting her hands up to protect herself and turning her face away. But he never reached her. He never grabbed her. So she finally lifted her head to find him crouched in front of her, just a few feet away. His hair was long and disheveled, not like the Bucky from before. He had an arm of metal, not like the Bucky that tried to choke her.
"It's me, Partner," he told her, his voice low and quiet and slow as not to spook her. "It's just me."
She watched him as he slowly lifted his hand towards her, her body trembling, tears and snot running down her face. She flinched as he moved.
"You're safe here," he promised her. "It was just a dream, Joana. It was just a dream. It's me, James."
Joana swallowed. James. Her James. Her Bucky. Just a dream.
"The...the man with the scalpel...-" she tried to say but her voice cut off.
"There is no man. It's just you and me. You had a nightmare, that's all. We're in Romania. You're free. You won."
Joana swallowed again. Her tremors slowly, her breathing returning to normal.
"We won? We beat them? We're safe?" She asked. He nodded, reaching his hand out to her further.
"We're safe. It's you and me, Partner."
With her vision cleared, her mind completely awake and out of the dream world, Joana saw Bucky sitting in front of her. Not the Winter Soldier. Not someone trying to kill her. Her Bucky. Her friend. Her best friend. The man she loved.
Bypassing his hand, Joana threw herself forward into his arms, knocking him off balance. He pulled her into his lap and held her close, just like she had done for him hours before hand. She didn't cry though, because there was nothing to cry about. She just held on to him and he held on to her.
He was right, she decided. They had won. They beat HYDRA. They beat Pierce. They beat the Commander. They beat the Winter Soldier.
"We won," she whispered into his bare skin. Bucky tightened his grip on her waist and back and breathed a sigh of relief, as if he hadn't fully believed himself when he told her, but hearing it come from her mouth made it true.
"We should try to get more sleep. Only a few more hours before the sun comes up and you probably want to get some training in before work," he said finally as her back started to ache from the awkward position she found herself in. She nodded and slid out of his grip.
"Could I..." she started, but looked away from him. "Never mind, it's dumb."
"What?"
"Nothing."
"No, now you have to tell me. I'm curious."
"Would you mind so terribly if I slept with you?" She felt like a child, scared of the dark, scared of the monster living under her bed. "I just don't want to have the nightmare again."
Bucky nodded, but he said nothing, which made her cheeks burn. Embarrassment swept through her as she sat on the floor. He stood and reached his hand towards her.
"I'll keep away your demons if you keep away mine," he told her with a hint of a smile. A smile of her own appeared on Joana's face as she took his hand.
They lay on the almost bare mattress together, her back pressed into his chest, an arm draped over her waist and across her stomach. She tucked one arm under her head as a pillow and put her other over the arm on her waist. Bucky's warm breath heated the back of her neck, making her smile. It reminded her of the days before the war, when he would stay with her for the night, when everything seemed perfect and good. This was the safest she had felt in a long, long time, with Bucky's arm around her and a sheet to keep out the cold. Joana smiled.
She found that she slept again and she dreamed. Her dreams weren't pure and good like she had hoped. They were frightening and they reminded her of the 70 year war she had just won, but Bucky was beside her the entire time. They were unstoppable. She was safe.
She was safe.
She was finally safe.

****

Heck yeah, my dudes. Thanksgiving is coming up so I'm on break which means lots of time for writing but I have a bajillion other stories to write so idk how much I'll get done on this one, but we're almost done here. I'm not entirely sure what's gonna happen next chapter but there will be some tension ifyaknowwhatimean ;) ;)

Also maybe the beginning of Civil War? Idk but maybe yeah.

So I hope you guys are all doing well and I hope that school isn't screwing you over. If it is, trust me, it won't forever. Just take it one week at a time. Find something to do on the weekend that will make the whole week worth while. That's what I do. One week at a time until Star Wars. One week at a time until Black Panther. One week at a time until Pacific Rim. Ya feel? And then it's summer and then you do it again.

SO that's what I do i don't know if it'll be useful for anyone else.

I hope your day was great and I hope tomorrow will be greater.

You Will Win.

(also I saw justice league and it was kinda trash except aquaman saved the entire movie, but that's just me)

With the greatest of regards,

authorsbane