I Will Wait For You [ stucky ]

one

2,025 words ✓

xxx

bucky

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"...best friends on the playground and battlefield, Steven Rogers and James Barnes were inseparable."

My eyes scanned the room, watching out for any threat. People crowded around the exhibits, eyes wide and mouths gaping in awe of Captain America.

Steve. The name rings in my ear.

Suddenly I can feel his skin, his blood against my hands, and I gulp, walking away from the Howling Commandos exhibit, towards the small setup they have for the late James Buchanan Barnes.

I examine a photo of him, with his clean shaven face and his pristine army-green uniform. This man, this person I'm supposed to be, looks nothing like me.

My hair is longer than James', and there's dark stubble sprinkled around my mouth and jaw. A dark blue cap is pulled low on my forehead, shading my eyes from anyone who might stare too long and realise Captain America wasn't the only one who survived his supposed death. My jacket covers my arms and I wear gloves to conceal my mismatched hands.

No, I am not James Barnes. But I'm not the Asset, either. My handlers can't reach me. I think.

They can't get to me again. I can hide, protect myself from them, and figure out who I really am. They can't make me hurt anyone ever again. The Winter Soldier can't return.

I feel a presence, a person who's wandered too close, and I tense, subtly glancing towards them. It's a child, more specifically a little girl. Looks around seven, eight maybe. She smells sweet, like sugar, or maybe even chocolate. 

I get a flashing memory of chocolate chip cookies that a woman made me once, a lifetime ago.

I shake my head slightly, pushing the thought aside. The little girl is staring up at me, her blue eyes examining my face. Her blonde hair pulled is into a braid. I clench my jaw, trying to figure out what to do about this girl. What if she realises who I am? Children are not stupid. I've spent time in the Red Room; they are not as naive as one would think.

Surprisingly, she smiles at me.

I stare quietly back at her, my jaw still clenched. Does she recognise me? Is that smile good or bad? What if she's one of the Black Widows? I ball my left fist, the metal plates clicking softly as I prepare myself for any threat.

Suddenly she reaches up and pulls her hair out of the braid, taking the rubber band into her hand as her long, wavy hair falls onto her shoulder. What? If she were to attack me, surely she'd keep her hair tied back.

She holds the rubber band out to me, a soft smile still on her face. "You might need this, to keep your hair out of your face. Don't you want to be able to see?" She asks, her voice quiet.

I don't say anything, nor move to take the band from her, so she turns back to James' exhibit. "My grandpa was rescued by Captain America and James Barnes. I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for them." She whispered, smiling softly. She glanced back at me, still holding the rubber band out in front of me.

Suddenly her blonde hair turns dark brown and her bright blue eyes fade into a softer tone. Freckles now dot the bridge of her nose and her t-shirt and shorts are replaced by a blue cotton dress with a white collar.

I look away from her to see that the James Barnes exhibit is gone, along with the rest of the museum. We're standing in a small room now, with old wooden floors and a window at the far side of the room. Outside, the roofs of the neighbouring buildings are covered in white, powdery snow. I shiver slightly as I notice the temperature drop.