Nightingale (Sequel to Solider Boy)

Forty-Seven

Seventy-three, Bucky thought bitterly, several hours later, dragging himself back towards the apartment.  Another failed attempt. Another day he'd have to keep living with a kill switch in his head. 

He opened the door to the apartment. The studio was grey, the light from outside (which was dull now as twilight fell across the jungle outside) the only light currently in the place. Frowning, Bucky sighed heavily to himself. In his disappointment, he'd forgotten for a moment that there was someone else in the apartment with problems they couldn't outrun. 

 "Melody?" Bucky called, flipping on the light switch. " Light flooded the studio and that's when he saw her sitting on the floor, head bowed and her arms wrapped tightly around her knees. 

"Melody?" Bucky called for her again, kicking off his shoes and moving towards her. The nearer he got, the clearer it became that she looked horrible. Her face was bone white and her entire body was shaking. "What's wrong?" 

"How'd it go?" she asked, ignoring his question. "The same I assume. You'd be happier if it went right."

"Yeah, I would be." He glanced down at Melody's hand, the object she was holding was a cell phone, though not like the one she normally carried. This wasn't a smart phone, it was disposable. "When did you get this?"

"Before I left New York," she replied, tightening her grip on the phone. The tendons on the back of her hand were stretched like piano wire and made her fingers look more like claws. "In case I needed to call anyone." 

Bucky couldn't help the little grin that flitted onto his face. Though she'd never gone on the run , Melody, thus far had done everything correctly. "You trying to call anyone recently?"

"No." Her fingers relaxed on the phone and her head fell forward onto her knees. "I just...I can't do this alone."

Bucky sat next to her and took her hand. "That's what I'm here for."

She let out a bitter laugh. "I'd be easier if I was holding someone's instines in my hands, at least then I'd know exactly what to do." 

Bucky looked over at Melody, his heart breaking for her. He knew the feeling well. He'd felt it when he'd seen Steve for the first time after DC. He'd  asked why Bucky had pulled him from the river and he'd lied. He said he hadn't known the reason but he wasn't brave enough to tell Steve the real reason; He'd pulled Steve out of the river because he was his best friend, because he remembered him.

 "What do I even say to her?" 

"I ran and hid from my best friend for two years," Bucky said, drawing away so he could look at her. "So maybe I'm not the best person to ask."

"You're the only one I can ask." 

Bucky sighed and shifted a bit on the floor, wishing that he had two arms. Right now, all he wanted to do was lift Melody up and hold her tight against him-a feat which was nearly impossible with one limb. Pressure, he'd learned could be an effective tool to calm down the nervous system. He had a feeling the moment she dialed Sharon's number, Melody would be more anxious than ever.  

"Just keep things to the point and hang up the moment you've said what you need to say. Tell her who you are, tell her you're safe and leave it at that. Sharon doesn't need to know anything else right now."

"What if she picks up the phone and starts demanding answers?"

"Hang up anyways."

"I owe her an explanation," Melody said in a small voice that was so unlike her usual tone.

"Yes," Bucky agreed. "You do, but you don't owe her one before you're ready to give it."

"She waited a month for answers, how much longer can I expect her to be patient with me?"