Insanity

Chapter 36

Song: Rescue by Lauren Daigle (for the full emotionally painful experience, wait until you see this symbol: * to start the song ;) )

☆☆☆

"I will send out an army 
to find you, even on the 
darkest nights, it's true,
I will rescue you."

☆☆☆

The sun came streaming through the windows, leaving small streaks of yellow light all throughout his apartment. Bucky sat up in bed and with a yawn, stretched his arms and legs this way and that, ignoring the sounds of his crackling joints and bones.

He shuffled out of bed and to his bathroom, taking a quick, cold shower to wake him up. It worked, of course, not only waking him up but also bringing back old memories of much less peaceful times at Hydra, times when he'd been punished and hosed down with ice cold water after a failed mission or even for something as simple as talking back. But this time was different, because he was in control. This was okay. This was safe. He put on a fresh set of clothes, the same burgundy Henley and blue jean combo as always, before making himself some breakfast.

Bucky was pretty proud of himself for having learned - or remembered - how to make oatmeal. He poured some plain oats and milk into a small pot, turning on his electric stove with a click and slowly stirring it until it became the right consistency. For whatever reason, it reminded him of his old home in Brooklyn. Though he couldn't remember specifically, he thought that perhaps he often ate oatmeal when he was about ninety years younger before heading off to school.

He always ate straight from whatever dish he prepared his meals in to minimize cleanup time and once he was done with his bland breakfast, he took the pot over to the sink and rinsed it out, laying it beside his collection of other clean dishes. He had a quick swig of suspicious tasting orange juice and upon inspecting the carton, found it to be a week expired. He knew any normal person would have thrown it out but he knew he'd had far worse in his life; a little expired juice wouldn't hurt him.

Bucky placed his cap on his head, pulling on his jacket. He adjusted the candy bars on top of his journal on the fridge, making sure they looked as inconspicuous as possible before leaving his apartment, stuffing his money into his zip up pockets.

The streets of Bucharest were busy and bustling, and Bucky also noticed that extra police officers seemed to be out and about. Driving. Walking. Disguised in civilian clothing but giving it all away by the way their fingers stayed brushing over their concealed weapons, ready to pounce at any given moment.

Bucky swallowed, growing nervous. He already felt naked without his backpack, though the thought of it being safely hidden under his floorboards at home helped to calm him a little. He tried to keep his head low as he walked, but at the same time not suspiciously low; he did his best to blend in, to match the gait and mannerisms of those around him.

He hated that even after a year, walking around still tended to make him nervous. The heavy presence of police sure wasn't helping, either. They were looking for someone, and he could tell. But who? He always feared in the back of his mind that it was still him, that it would always be him, that the threat of Hydra capturing him again would never go away.

Bucky made his way to the produce section of the market, scanning the stands for anything resembling plums. He saw zucchinis, apples, even pineapples; the plums seemed to want to be as reclusive as he occasionally felt.

Eventually, he stumbled upon a rather crowded stand, the sign above it reading "Fresh pears! Fresh plums!" It was an odd combination, but Bucky didn't question it. He walked up to the bustling stand, sandwiching himself between a small boy and a young man, forcing down his dislike of being around multiple people.