Chrysalism

-chapter thirty-six-

New York, New York. August 29th, 2017. 1:28 AM. Bucky's Living Room. 

"I don't know why I did it, I don't even remember the fight," Bucky explained frantically, he paced in front of Steve, who sat on the couch. Bucky chewed just fingernails as he rambled on about his breakup with Malone. "All I remember is seeing Kenny, he ignored me. He was crying, and then I saw Malone just, stone-faced, coming out of the Quinjet. I don't know, I don't understand how it got here."

"Buck, you've gotta get it together. You know this was her only shot at getting her family back," Steve explained.

"I know, I know. And I should have understood that, but I didn't. I was blindsided by the lie, I couldn't even attempt to see her side of it."

"You've gotta talk to her," Steve replied. "If you really wanna fix this, you have to tell her everything you're telling me."

"I can't, Steve. That's what you don't get. I broke her heart literally hours after she lost her brother. I can't talk to her, she doesn't even want to see me."

"You're right," Steve sighed. "She doesn't want to see you. She's pissed at you, but she's consumed by Cole's death. She's not gonna process this breakup anytime soon. You need to find a way though, I don't know how, but you need to find one."

Bucky groaned as he plopped onto the couch next to Steve, covering his face with his hands.

"My best advice?" Steve said softly, "I'd start with Bill."

"I broke his daughter's heart, I'm the last person he wants to see right now," Bucky sighed.

"Ah, ah. See, that's where you're wrong. Bill doesn't know you guys broke up, you can go explain everything to him, tell him how wrong you were. Maybe he'll go soft on you," Steve explained, chuckling lightly. Bucky shot Steve a hard look, and Steve shrugged before standing and walking towards the door. "All I'm saying is, you can't wait too long." 

___ 

Brooklyn, New York. 2:16 AM. 

Bucky walked aimlessly around his old stomping grounds in the cool New York night, taking in the bustle of the city even this late at night. He kept his eyes glued to the ground as he walked, knowing the route like the back of his hand. He turned a quick left onto a quieter street, much less lit, and made sure to note every sound he heard. Every rustle, every creak of the street made him jump on the inside, and grow harder on the outside. No matter how much he tried to hide it, he was still just as paranoid as when he first got back to New York. He came to a locked wrought iron gate and glanced at the cross perched on the top for just a moment before deciding to climb the fence, rather than destroy it. His torn Converse sneakers hit the dirt with a thud, and Bucky started on the dirt path towards the back left section, where he buzzed through the maze of stones before coming to his own. He sighed as he read over the names engraved on the headstone over and over, trying to find the right words to say. 

"Mom," he started, falling to his knees, bawling. "Mom, I messed up. I really messed up. I lost her, I was stupid and I lost her." He grabbed at the grass, pulling up handfuls of blades as he cried, clawing for his mother. 

"I need help, I need you. Mom, what am I supposed to do? She's my everything, and I messed it up. Mom, please," he sobbed. "I don't know what to do." 

A memory came rushing back to him like a flood, one he hadn't remembered before. Suddenly, he was a four-year-old kid, sitting in his mother's lap at church while his father held a little Rebecca. He remembered looking up into his mother's perfect face, skin like porcelain, long lashes, and a button nose. Her short brown hair had been set in perfect waves, and a dainty hat sat atop her head, perfectly appropriate for church. A deep voice from the front of the room caused the small Bucky to turn, where he saw a large bald man in white robes, giving that week's sermon. "If you find yourself unsure, feeling lost, alone, or abandoned," the man said slowly, "turn to the Lord, for he will never leave you. Call upon the Lord in prayer, surrender your sins, and he will help you find your way." 

The memory faded around Bucky as he wiped tears from his face, trying to catch his breath. 

"You were never one of subtlety, huh, Ma?" He asked in a pained laugh as he sat back on his heels, taking a deep breath. Bucky had lost religion in the Army, and more so after becoming a weapon, so the act of praying, or talking to a being in any way, seemed foreign to him. This was the most lost he had ever felt, he had to find a way to right his wrongs and that memory was the only piece of advice anyone had given him in the last week that seemed to make sense. So, he took a deep breath and let it out slowly, as he bowed his head and folded his hands. 

"Heavenly Father," he began. A feeling of ridiculousness rose in his stomach, and almost caused him to abandon the idea altogether, but the nagging feeling that Mother knows best brought him back. "I am lost. Please allow your Holy Spirit to guide me, for I have made the biggest mistake of my life. I've committed crimes beyond measure, but my worst is breaking Georgia's heart. Please lift Cole's spirit into your heavenly light, and help Georgia to find her way once more. Allow the Taylor family healing, through all their hardships. And please, guide me back into the light of your Spirit and love. In Christ our Lord, Amen." 

That night, back at the compound, Bucky settled into his bed feeling a weight being lifted from his chest, and he was finally able to breathe again. He slept soundly for the first night since losing Malone, instead of patrolling like normal. That night, in a dream, he saw his mother for the first time since being a child. But, she was older. As if she had never died. Her grey hair was still perfectly waved, and she wore the wrinkles around her eyes and mouth with grace. Bucky walked towards her slowly, and she smiled and held her arms out, wrapping Bucky in a hug. 

"Oh, James, you look just like your father," she sighed softly. Bucky stared at her in shock, bewildered by the tangibility of the dream. "Would you like to take a walk?" 

Bucky nodded and allowed his mother to slip her arm through his, and they took off into a slow walk around a shimmering pond surrounded by lush greenery. 

"This-this is just a dream, right Ma?" Bucky asked nervously. She chuckled softly before patting his arm with her small hand. 

"Yes, son. But someone told me you could use some advice," she smiled. They came to a small bench on the edge of the pond, where his mother motioned for both of them to sit. "James, love like this only comes once in a lifetime. If you truly love her, you need to chase her." 

Bucky sighed and took his mother's hand. 

"If it's any motivation, your father and I love her," she said softly before staring to the other side of the pond. She stood slowly and began walking towards the edge of the pond. She turned and looked at Bucky one last time before stepping onto the water, where she glided along, towards a man dressed in a stiff suit and hat on the other side of the water. Bucky recognized the man as his own father, and when his parents were reunited, a wave of relief washed over Bucky.