Drive. ~James Buchanan Barnes

Chapter 14

I rub at my wrist gently. All of that running yesterday certainly didn't help the healing process.

We're headed to Alabama.

Atlanta obviously isn't going to work out.

"Matter manipulation?" Bucky asks curiously, "What does that entail?"

I raise my head from its position on the window, "Well, it's pretty straightforward. I have the ability to manipulate everything that is matter."

"Give me an example." He replies, and I see his brow furrow slightly. I can't really blame him, it took me a while to wrap my head around it too.

"So, pretty much everything except Antimatter and Nothingness." I explain, "I can mold and shape, create, grow, regrow, and bend whatever you see to my own will."

"So, in theory, could you fix your wrist?" He questions.

I look down, "In theory, I could probably regrow your entire arm. But my ability can be unstable. I don't have enough control over it to risk that."

"I understand." He says, "I probably wouldn't let you anyway. I guess it's a part of me now. Like a reminder."

I nod slowly, and go back to resting my head against the window.

"Why haven't you tried to control it since what happened with your sister?" He inquires after a while.

I begin to feel a little uncomfortable at the topic, but I know I need to get this out in the open, "I got so good at manipulation that I could create things out of thin air. My sister thought it was the coolest thing in the world, and I overestimated myself. I let her fall." I pause, fidgeting with the bandages on my wrist, "But even if I had continued to learn, to train, I would have wound up on Shield's radar. Hydra too. God knows how many others there are. I didn't want to be weaponized."

"New York?"

I know what he's asking.

"If I had been close, I would have helped. I almost went back into DC but everything was over by the time I found out." I answer.

"Hydra knows now." He states.

I nod, "No point in hiding anymore. I guess I need to find some place empty to train."

"Well," He begins with a small smile, glancing over at me, "I guess you could start with your wrist."

"Yeah..." I trail off, running my left hand over my wrist hesitantly.

Bucky notices this, and glances at me oddly, "You don't seem too thrilled about having your wrist fixed."

"It isn't that," I shake my head, "but it's matter, Bucky. You're made out of it, so am I, so is that tree, and that rock, and the air and the ground."

"It scares you." He states, tilting his head slightly.

I nod in affirmation, "When I think about what I could do, it terrifies me. Nobody should have this much power."

We are silent for a few moments before I shake my head, as though to empty it of fear.

"How's your head?" I ask him with a tiny smirk.

We pull in at a rest stop. It's empty except for one family in an RV.

He shuts the car off, turning to face me fully, "It's good. I'm more tired than anything."

I scoff, "Well you wouldn't let me drive at all last night. You must be exhausted."

"You have a broken wrist," he shrugs, "I was okay."