Pushing Daisies [BUCKY BARNES]

10

It was miraculous how fast Clint had everything organized to ship himself, Tony, and I down to Washington. Bruce refused to come along, knowing full well that he didn't mix with big cities, especially important ones like the capital.

Tony snapped pictures like an excited tourist for our entire trip through the airport, since I talked it all out with Clint and insisted we go in the old fashioned way. On a public transport plane just like everyone else.

At first Tony had taken a fit about it, but when Clint shoved a small disposable camera into his hands and told him to 'have at it,' the billionaire directed his attention towards snapping candid pictures of Clint and I, random people in the airport terminal, and taking selfies with strangers.

"Wes, smile!" Tony poked me in the cheek as we sat down, having already snapped a picture of Clint stowing away all our carry ons.

I turned to face him, throwing the cheekiest grin across my face that I could muster, then turning back to stare out the window. We had gotten an early flight, departing at 7 AM, but as the sky lit up and sparkled in various pink and orange tints I couldn't help but silently applaud Clint for choosing this early of a flight. That is, until Tony practically laid overtop of me in order to snap a picture of the sunrise.

"Why did you think giving him that was a good idea?" I hissed at Clint as the engineer jabbed me in the gut with his elbow while trying to climb back to his seat.

"It's a disposable one, it'll-"

"Hey!" Tony squawked, frantically clicking at his camera, "it's not working anymore!"

"-run out." Clint finished with a smirk.

I, again, silently applauded the archer.

"Why would you give me one that runs out?!"

"Because all you do is take pictures!"

"You told me to!"

"I didn't think all you would do would be snapping pictures!"

"I'm not!"

"You are!"

"Am not!"

"Am too!"

"Am no-"

I cut off their childish banter by plugging a spare set of earbuds Tony had lent me into my walkman, hesitating before pressing the play button. The tiny piece of plastic clicked into place, the tape inside started rolling, and my duplicate of Juliannes Volume 2 started to play quietly.

Resting my forehead against the freezing window, I closed my eyes and let myself drift off for the rest of the flight.

/\/\/\————————>>>

"Wes," I was shaken awake, Clint standing over me with my earbuds in hand, Tony standing behind him whining about his camera. "We're here."

I smiled and stood, rubbing my eyes and taking up my black backpack that Clint had taken down from the carry-on and put on the seat. "Lets go!" I shoved the two out of the way and bounded down the isle, excited beyond belief.

When we finally got to the terminal, we were quick to get separated, my tiny five foot frame not able to see over the other pedestrians. The fact that I was so short also prevented anyone else from finding me. I didn't have a cell phone, and I didn't know any of their phone numbers either, so I simply shrugged, shouldered my backpack, and started my trek to our hotel.

The sky was a vibrant blue, and for once I wish Tony was there to snap a picture of it for me. I walked slowly, wanting to take in the scenery. I stopped at all of the monuments, reading all of the plaques and soaking up all the information I could.

That is, until I came across the Smithsonian. With a gasp, I fished ten dollars out of my pocket for the admission fee and raced inside, thoroughly excited. I marveled over all the exhibits, catching my breath at the sight of the Captain America exhibit.

Tears welled in my eyes as I remembered all the weekends Julianne and I had spent cooped up in this exhibit, both of us in awe over the war heroes and their miraculous adventures.

I slowly toured the exhibit, now suddenly connecting more to the stories of the Captain and his Howling Commandos having met the Captain himself. It was fun, wondrous actually, and I liked being able to spend as long looking at things as I wanted to, since I was by myself.

Too soon, though, I found myself in front of the Bucky Barnes plaque. My eyes bore through the story of his life, how he was Steve's best friend, and I got shivers. The face of the dead man that sat above the plaque always made me nervous, ever since Julianne started dragging me here. His bright blue eyes and close cropped black hair, something about him seemed too familiar. It always did, and while I absolutely adored the man and his story, the nervous butterflies in my stomach made me mildly uncomfortable for reasons that were far beyond my grasp.

Turning to leave, a new part of the exhibit caught my eye. The nurses of WWII. This hadn't been here last time Julianne and I had been here.

With a skip in my step I entered the new section of the exhibit, ready to scour the area. It was a circular room, one big touchscreen plaque in the middle and various plaques placed on the walls of the room, each one on a different nurse that made advancements in the war, along with their old uniform and a picture of them.

I walked along quietly, reading each new plaque and learning all about the women who put themselves on the front line to take care of our boys, to patch them up and keep them alive. Kelly Morrison, Jaycee Mason, Kiera Harrison.

When I reached the last one, her story wowed me the most. Her name was Lillian Jacobs, and while her name sounded all too familiar, she was a nurse on the front lines. She was bounced around from group to group, being one of the best nurses in the field she was in high demand. She was with the 25th brigade when almost her entire unit was mowed down by the Nazis. The story goes that she took up a machine gun herself and with 100 rounds took out the opposing wall of Nazi soldiers. And she was only 16, two full years under the registration limit. Then, about a month later, she disappeared into thin air. No one knew where she went, and it was assumed that she was picked up by Hitler and either executed or sent to a concentration camp.

I left the museum in awe, thinking back on the women who aided in the war. They were all brilliant, and it felt almost empowering to know that I could lead such a change as they did if I set my mind to it.

A familiar voice rang in my ears and my head shot up, looking around. Steve and some redhead girl were dragging a random guy to a car, forcing him inside it.

Smiling and without thinking I raced over, waving my hand excitedly. "Steve!"

He turned and when he saw me all the color drained from his face. "Wes, you need to leave."

"What? Why? Steve, we all came to find you! We're gonna go see all the cool stuff down here!"

"Wes it's not saf-"

"Woah is that the Black Widow?" I chimed, looking over his shoulder to see the redhead in the car, looking startled. I slipped under Steve's arm and held out my hand, "I'm Wesley I live in your building now."

"Steve," the man in the front seat grumbled, "we gotta go."

"Alright," and before I knew what was going on Steve picked me up and dumped me next to the random guy they had abducted in the back seat, "looks like you're coming with us for now, Wes. Keep your head down and your eyes peeled, don't be stupid and don't talk to anyone you don't know, okay?"

I nodded firmly, a small smile stretching across my face. "You betcha."