Deity

Just A Dream

James laid down, closing his eyes and picturing the room which slowly took on the form of a shabby apartment with repaired furniture and patched pants on the arm of the sofa. A young man appeared, looking tired but happy and his eyes caught James'.

"You okay there, pal? You look a bit unsure." Bucky Barnes' voice was warm and full of life. This was the Bucky who had promised Steve that they were together until the end of the line, the one before the war and before HYDRA. This was the Bucky that was whole and complete before the horrors.

"You are James Buchanan Barnes?" James questioned this person who looked so much like him.

"Yep. That's me, Pal. And you. Cause we're the same." Bucky kept an easy smile on his face. "Sit down. And I'll tell you some things."

The Asset sat down on the edge of a worn out armchair. His entire being screamed insecurity, at least to his other self. Bucky could read James' body language and facial expressions easily.

"We're the same person. You're me and I'm you. And the little boy that was here earlier is us too 'cept he's sleepin' cause he's a kid and needs to." Bucky rested his elbows on his thighs. "We need go merge back into one. All of us back together rather than sharing the mindscape. Like how we were when we lived in Brooklyn with Stevie in our apartment."

"We need recalibration?" James was trying to process. It was a confusing concept for him.

"Kinda. But it's more like we need to be cemented back together cause right now, we're shattered. A mess." Bucky explained. "There's one more part of us too. He just hasn't come out yet. He saw a lot of shit. But he's important to us. He's the one before you. Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes."

"Who are you?" James questioned, eyes examining the man across from him.

"Me? I'm just Brooklyn boy Bucky Barnes." Bucky flashed a grin. "Ladies man, charm the panties off a anyone. Always getting into scraps to save Stevie's skinny ass. I swear, I turn my back for two minutes and he's in a back alley getting into a fight with some jackass three times his size."

"He gets sick a lot." James spoke hesitantly. It was something that had featured in the stories prominently.

"Yep, he does." Bucky was pleased with his other self. It meant he remembered a bit and that the process to merge was already starting. "He's got asthma, weak heart, gets tired easily. He's half deaf and blind too. A whole mess of problems. But he doesn't give up. He's too stubborn to give up. And so are we. We're damn stubborn too, enough to fix this mess we are."

"We will fix ourselves?" James leaned forward slightly, arms flat on his thighs.

"With a lil help from that dame. She just wants ta help us." Bucky sounded earnest. "She wants to fix us for Stevie."

"For Steve." James echoed softly. "Okay."

"Here. Look at this." Bucky gave James an album and the Winter Soldier settled in to look through the album, Bucky's voice explaining each memory until James felt like he could remember it himself. He didn't even notice when his body settled into sleep, the transition bumpless. He spent the night in his mindscape, looking through his memories and waking gently once his body registered the door opening in the real world.

"Hey, James." Kayla spoke softly, seeing the soft confused expression which told her that perhaps the little boy Bucky was in charge of the body now. She brought him the pen and the notepad, sitting on the edge of the bed and waited. He leaned into her space, confirming that this was Little Bucky. "Did you sleep well?"

"Uh huh." Bucky nodded, feeling her holding him gently. His heart was pounding though and he stiffened, leaning away as James took back over. His eyes blanked slightly but not completely.

"Here, write what you saw. You don't have to put anything you don't want to. You could put a general description if you wanted." Kayla wanted to make sure he was comfortable. He nodded and started drawing out what he had seen rather than writing it. He included the other version of himself and himself sitting on the furniture like they were talking. He filled in the details of the room perfectly, the obvious shabbiness of everything and also even tinier drawings up on the walls he had drawn. He gave her the drawing, looking anxious which was a good thing really. "You did great. Do you feel okay with coming downstairs?"

"No." James forced himself to say. He didn't want to see Steve yet. He wasn't ready to yet.

"That's okay. I can leave the pad of paper and the pencils if you want. And bring you anything you want. Books? I can bring you books." Kayla offered and he nodded, flinching as the books appeared to fill the middle two shelves of the bookshelf. "Sorry. I won't hurt you, okay? You won't be hurt here."

"Okay." James tore his drawing off of the pad of paper, gave it to her and then took the pad of paper back. He watched her leave and settled back to read one of the books.