Searching for James

Ch. 4: Even Ghosts Have Nightmares

Scythe’s fridge was something of a wasteland. While Bucky was in the bath she rummaged through her cabinets for a decent meal. In the end she put together some ham sandwiches. That was it. All she had to go with them was soda, which for some reason she had a good amount of.

She was in the middle of cleaning up the table when Bucky came out wearing the only fresh clothes he had: black pants and a grey T-shirt. His hair was damp, turning it black.

“I made sandwiches,” she said in greeting. “All I have to drink is Mountain Dew. Hope that’s alright.”

She handed him a can and noticed him stare at it a second too long.

“If you want something else, I’m sure I have tea somewhere…”

“This is…pop,” he said, almost to himself.

She raised an eyebrow. “Have you ever had it?”

He shrugged. It hadn’t dawned on her until now that Bucky might not be familiar with some common-place items. 

“Have you used a microwave before?”

“I’ve seen them.”

By the irritated look on his face, Scythe could tell he thought she was making fun of him. She gave him a small smile to show she meant no ill will. “Why don’t you try it?” she indicated the soda.

“Water is fine.”

“Here,” she took it from him and popped it open. “You might crush it on accident. And this place is already too messy. Try it – it’s good,” she encouraged.

“Fine,” he snatched it back and walked to the window, hoping it would shut her up. It was a signal that she should leave him alone.

Scythe sat to eat but out of the corner of her eye she noticed him take a drink. She tried very hard not to smile.

That wasn’t so terrible was it?

 

When Scythe had stepped back into the world for the first time, she too had avoided anything unknown. Basic things like bread, cheese, and vegetables were what she lived off of. She wouldn’t go out to eat. Even packaged meat made her nervous. She was afraid it would be drugged and that hours later she would wake up, alone and in the dark again.

                                                        . . . 

After dinner, Bucky stood by the window until it was dark. Scythe decided to let him think. After she made up the bed in her study, Bucky went in without a word and shut the door.

Tomorrow they would look for HYDRA with new energy. Scythe dropped into bed and buried herself under her blankets, one hand holding onto the gun beneath her pillow. She imaged Bucky sleeping the same way. Having someone so near made her relax, even if that person was ready to kill her if he suspected she was HYDRA.

Scythe let herself drift off. The scenes from her dreams, usually so vivid, were quietter than usual. Eventually she settled into the beginning of the most relaxing sleep she’d had in months. But a shout sounded from the next room, interrupting it. 

Scythe bolted into the hallway, her gun pointed straight, searching wildly for anything out of place in the dark.

“James?” she called. When there was no immediate answer she threw open the door to Bucky’s room and pointed the gun inside. Bucky was already there. He grabbed her arm and slammed it against the wall. His breaths were quick and sweat beaded on his brow. “Get out,” he ordered and shoved her from the room, slamming the door behind her.

She stood in the hallway, feeling her pulse slow and embarrassment sink in. A nightmare. So he had them as well. And then she had to go and make a scene.

Stupid, she thought, squeezing her eyes shut. Should’ve known. Idiot.

“James?” she called quietly. “Can I get you water or something?”

No reply. She scratched her head using the gun handle and sighed. Then she leaned her forehead against the door. “Sorry,” she whispered.

Bucky paused in the middle of wiping sweat off his face. He stared at the door, suddenly regretting his violent reaction. He realized what he felt: remorse. Remorse for yelling at her after she had intruded on him.

These resurfacing emotions were getting on his nerves. It was her fault for walking in without warning. If he hadn’t been fully awake, he would’ve tried to break her neck.

Bucky sat down and leaned against the door, waiting for his mind to calm. After a minute he heard the click of her door as it shut. Now that she wasn’t hovering he could go wash his face. He got up, turned the handle, and then stopped. His eyes settled on the glass of water sitting by the door, waiting for him.