Chapter Text
Why me?
It was a fair question, and really the only one that had been running through Bucky’s head.
It was evening, the alley that he was residing in cold and unforgiving. A few hours prior, he came to find out that he was not the person he had thought he was. The man from the bridge had returned in full force, and with just the reciting of a few words, Bucky was brought back from the nightmare he had been trapped in. Without memories of his life before Hydra, or a place to go, Bucky was stuck in this dead end alley, sitting on the wet ground next to the dumpster. The smell was putrid and made him nauseous for a while, but he had grown used to it in his time there. His hair wasn’t wet anymore, but it was still slightly damp, sticking to his head.
What was he to do? The only thing he knew about himself was his name and that he knew a person named Steve, who, last time he checked, was lying at the edge of the water they had fallen in when the helicarrier plunged from the sky. That was almost nothing. What was he supposed to do with that information?
Where am I supposed to go? He asked himself. Where is there a place for a man who’s out of his time, and who spent the last seventy years as a deadly assassin?
A chill ran up his back, sending a shiver rippling through his body. The first thing he needed was shelter, and probably food. Definitely new clothes. He laughed at the thought of going to a homeless shelter. No way would they accept a man with a metal arm in leather armor. That with the fact that he had no information on himself. A birthday? Family? People would ask questions, and he didn’t have answers for them. His stomach rumbled. Had he eaten today? No, he hadn’t been fed in days.
A crowd of people walked passed the alley, and Bucky scooted further into the shadows. Was this the life he was destined to live? Going from brain washed super assassin to homeless man who finds refuge in back alleys and dumpsters? Although, while it wasn’t the greatest, he’d rather be anywhere than in Hydra’s hands again.
But they would get him again. They always did.
Somehow, they’d always find him. They had the technology and the man power to hunt him down wherever he went, and he was more than aware of that. He would always be on the run, and put anyone who got close to him in danger. He hadn’t known a peaceful nights rest in years, and it was beginning to look like that wouldn’t change any time soon. How was he supposed to live like this?
Unless he…didn’t.
The thought stunned him, but it was starting to become his only option. How was he expected to live like this? With the guilt of everything he’s done? Hydra had wiped his memory countless times, cleaning his slate over and over, but that didn’t erase the awareness that there was more pain he had caused, more blood on his hands than he could ever imagine. What place did he have in the world after that? He buried his face in his hands, overwhelmed. He wasn’t invincible, he knew that for sure. Though Zola’s experiments helped him tremendously with strength and durability, it didn’t take away his mortality.
Looking around the alley, he considered how he’d do it. The obvious choice was one of the weapons on his person. It would be quick and easy. But he had to consider who would find him. Who would have to clean it all up? There had been enough trauma caused by his hand, he didn’t need to cause anymore. He could always head to a bridge. How long does it take for one to drown? And then there was-
Well, this is getting depressing. Have you considered talking to a therapist?
Bucky froze at the sound of the voice. It was loud. Close. But when he looked around the alleyway, he saw no one. Just trash and boxes everywhere.
Not to be funny, but please don’t off yourself because I’m definitely not emotionally stable enough to handle listening to that.
He stood, his eyes bouncing around but still finding no one. How do they know? Not once did he say a word out loud. Where are they coming from?
I’m in your head, dummy.
Huh?
What kind of threat was this? Could they infiltrate his mind? Control him? A rush of panic flooded through Bucky. He just escaped being mind controlled, he wasn’t about to let it happen again. Head snapping in multiple different directions, he began to look around for anything he could use as a weapon if needed.
You can look for weapons all you want but I’m not going to hurt you. I’m not even there.
Who are you?
The voice in his head read him an unfamiliar name, which did nothing to ease his tension. Slowly, he sat back down next to the dumpster, reclaiming the small shelter. It didn’t do much in terms of protection, but it gave him a small peace of mind.
What do you want?
I don’t want anything. I didn’t have a choice in this. Where the fuck have you been? I just thought I was broken or something.
What the hell are you talking about?
Oh. You don’t know?
Know what?
He was starting to get angry. Was he going insane? Was this what Hydra had left him to live with? He buried his face in his hands as he tried to get his breathing under control. It was beginning to be too much.
Oh. You really don’t know.
Obviously not.
Anxiety rippled through him as he waited for the voice to speak again. To answer his questions. His hands were shaking violently, and he couldn’t tell if it was from the cold or from the fear that had filled him. Maybe both, but more than likely the latter. Finally, after longer than he had wanted, it came once more.
So this is going to sound crazy, but I promise I’m not fucking around with you.
Just tell me.
There was a loud sigh. Was it from him or the voice? He couldn’t tell.
I’m not sure how to explain this in a way that makes sense, because I’ve never known a person who didn’t know about it…
There was a long, anticipating pause. A cold wind blasted Bucky, sending him shivering into the corner. It didn’t matter though, not in that moment. He just wanted to know if he was going crazy or not. For a second, it almost felt like he was feeling the mind of the voice working to find the right words, and it was then that he was almost positive that he had lost it.
You know what soulmates are, right?
I’ve heard the term.
Okay, no one’s sure how it started, but the day you’re born, you can hear the thoughts of your soulmate, and communicate with them through them as well.
Bucky’s mind was blank as he listened, the words of the voice only barely resonating.
I never had one in my head, and just figured I didn’t have one or was unlovable or something. There was a long, drawn out sigh, and this time Bucky knew it wasn’t coming from him.
And I don’t know why there was this period without us hearing each other but us hearing each other now means I’m officially your soulmate, and that you’re mine.
~~
Fuck me.
The pen glided smoothly across your paper, when you were able to come up with what you were writing. It was becoming more and more evident that the homework for your college Trigonometry course was going to take longer than you had thought. While it wasn’t the hardest thing you had ever done, math just wasn’t your preferred subject, and you wished there was a way to avoid it.
Throwing down the pen, you stared out the window. The sun was low, just beginning to set on the horizon. It was only a matter of time before the city lights would come on, the light flooding out the stars. That was the worst part about living in the city. You couldn’t ever see the night sky for what it was.
I don’t think we’ve known each other long enough for that.
The intrusion startled you, but after a second, you found yourself laughing.
When did you get cheeky? Mr. Serious has a sense of humor?
I have my moments.
Few and far between, that’s for damn sure.
I wouldn’t be so damn sure about that.
You felt slightly bad for how much it shocked you, but considering he had been keeping his distance for the few days since you and him had connected, added to the first impression of him was when he was massively suicidal, who could blame you?
Where’ve you been?
There was a long pause, and you could hear the hesitation in his head as he scrambled to think of the right thing to say.
Around.
Vague. That’s how it always was with him. He wouldn’t tell you anything about him. Not a name or a hometown. Hell, he wouldn’t even tell you where he was. This person, whoever he may be, was the epitome of closed off. Staring out the window, you didn’t reply.
Gaining a soulmate so late in the game was so intriguing, giving you a new found excitement and adventure to dive into. Most people had their soulmates from the day they were born, meaning they had their entire childhood to get to know them and then they would use their teen and adult years to be find them, if it wasn’t someone they already knew in person, and start a life with them. You had for the longest time felt like an outsider without one. But now you did, and it was thrilling and scary at the same time.
The few days of radio silence from your companion gave you time to explore the abilities the connection gave you, and you found they were quite limited. You could tune in at anytime, without him knowing, and feel his every emotion but you couldn’t dig through his memories and you could only hear his conscience thoughts, the ones where he was basically talking to himself. Only he could show you anything beyond that, should he decide. It was basically like being on a long term phone call with someone. Not once did he ever feel a positive emotion, except for the occasional bout of relief. But it never lasted long. You also had the ability to block him from seeing your thoughts, you learned, but from how his mind was on most of the time, you highly doubted he knew how to do it.
Despite how happy it made you to have a soulmate, you had to admit, it was hard when yours kept everything so close to the vest. You had already told him your name, and yet he didn’t feel like he could do the same. And part of you felt somewhat hurt by that.
How’s your journey to find yourself going?
I had to dig through a donation bin to find new clothes for myself. Took me a whole hour to find a shirt in my size.
Oh, so you did take my suggestion on that. Good thinking. The clothes might not be clean but it’s better than whatever you were wearing, probably.
Also, I found myself at the Smithsonian yesterday.
Your eyebrows raised up. So he was in DC. Not close to you, but at least it wasn’t countries away.
So, you walked around and ended up there?
No, I mean I’m actually featured in the Smithsonian. It was…really weird.
In a heated attempt to be nonchalant and not set off any alarms, you grabbed your laptop and pulled up the Smithsonian website, looking at the featured exhibits. As you ran through what you knew of the museum through your head, nothing seemed to call out to you.
Which exhibit were you in?
Long pause.
I don’t remember.
He was lying. It wasn’t the long pause or the unsureness of it that gave him away. It was the flash of Captain America’s face that went through his mind, and subsequently going through yours, that gave him away. Almost comically by coincidence, a banner promoting the Captain America exhibit appeared at the top of the screen as the page loaded. You clicked on it and waited.
Do you really not remember or are you just using that as another excuse to not tell me who you are?
It was more confrontational than you would normally get, but it was tiring to you that you were ready and willing to be a soulmate to him, but he wasn’t willing to let you be. You had been dying for this for your entire life. To experience what everyone else had since they were kids. And it was kind of sad that he was slightly ruining it for you.
I’m a dude who can’t remember his entire life before two days ago and you’re questioning whether I can remember what exhibit I’m featured in at a museum?
While it sounded like he was kidding, you knew he was, in some way, firing back. And you weren’t having it.
Don’t bullshit me, dude. If it had information on your past, then that’s not something you forget.
During his silence, you scrolled through the exhibit pictures. It wasn’t until that moment that you realized you didn’t know exactly what it was you were looking for. What could he have been to Captain America? A contributor to the exhibit? Or a collector? He couldn’t actually be in the exhibit. Every man featured in it save Steve Rogers himself was dead. You skimmed over the mural of the Howling Commandos, closely examining their faces.
Can you at least tell me your name so I have something to call you?
There was just more silence, and you began to believe he had tuned you out. Shaking your head, you went to close your laptop.
James.
It was unsure sounding like before, and you wondered if he even wanted you to call him that, or if he just didn’t want to tell you the name that would really identify him. As you were turning back to your laptop screen, your door opened and you instinctively closed the internet window. Averting your attention back to your coursework, you didn’t look at the new presence, who was leaning against your doorframe.
“Whatcha up to, kiddo?” You simply shrugged.
“Just homework.” When you looked up, he was giving you a concerned look. “What?” He raised his hands, in the way he always did when he was about to say something that you wouldn’t necessarily like.
“You’ve just been off, and I don’t know.” He paused for an inordinate amount of time, and as the seconds past, anxiety rose in your chest. “I’m worried about you,” He finally admitted, tilting his head. You didn’t mean to, but you were well aware of how closed off to the world outside your head you had been. Though you wanted to tell him, the man who took you in when you had no one else, about your newfound soulmate, you didn’t want to admit it when you didn’t know more about him.
“I’ve just been busy with school,” You lied with ease. “Not much time for anything else. I’m sorry that I’ve been distant.” He didn’t seem satisfied with this answer but you and him both knew he couldn’t force it out of you.
“You know you can talk to me, right?” He asked. The sincerity in his voice made you feel guilty, and you weren’t sure why.
“I know,” You said, giving him a soft smile. “Thanks, Stark.” Tony gave you a curt nod and a returned smile before backing out of your doorway and slowly shutting the door behind him. The second it clicked, you looked back at your laptop with a frown.
Whoever this James person was, he clearly wasn’t going to make being your soulmate easy on you. It was rare that a soulmate didn’t want to share everything with the one they were destined to be with. The only thing that gave you some sort of peace of mind was that you knew that at some time or another, your paths would have to cross. That’s how soulmates worked. If the two of you didn’t come together on your own, life found a way to do it for you.
Ugh, why couldn’t this have been easy? You asked yourself.
Why me?
~~
Why are you still up?
Can’t sleep. What’s your excuse?
A dog barked a few yards away from Bucky, making him shuffle deeper into his corner. He never felt more claustrophobic than he did in that moment. The closest thing he had to a pillow was the duffle bag propped up against the wall behind him. The swaying back and forth of the ground had made him sick the first day, but now he was so used to it that he could probably live on it without trouble. Although he was still having a hard time sleeping through it.
Me neither.
The air reeked of salt water, giving Bucky a headache. He was heavily crowded by shipping crates of all sizes, and the one dog that was his lone companion. For the most part, it was quiet, but sometimes it would begin to bark and he’d have to hope that no one came down to check on it. Using his fingers, he counted how many hours it had been since he last ate. Six. He could go a few more.
Humidity from the ocean filled the room, and Bucky had given up all attempts to sleep hours ago. All he had been doing for a while was listening to the sound of the soft waves hitting against the ship. There was something peaceful about it.
Are you on a boat?
Bucky felt his back tense. Of course he didn’t tell you anything. There was no point to. But you were smarter than he gave you credit for. You always were.
What makes you ask that?
I keep smelling sea salt and fish. In my bedroom. That’s nowhere near an ocean.
Did you ever think maybe it’s you? College kid and all, don’t know how to take care of themselves…
James…
Fine. You win. I’m on a cargo ship.
What the fuck are you doing on a cargo ship?
He closed his eyes at your question.
It was hard to explain his decision to leave America. At this point, there was nothing keeping him around. Nothing except for you, but he was trying to avoid getting attached, let alone meeting you in person. He was already failing at the former, so he hoped that this would ensure the latter. He knew meeting you was inevitable, as he had done his research on soulmates and what it generally entailed and now knew that if soulmates didn’t come together on their own that life would do it for them, but he wanted to put it off for as long as possible. At least until he felt like it was safe. And who knows how long that would take?
For the past two days, he had closed his mind off to you during his journey and had fully intended to keep it that way until he had arrived at his destination. But being left with his thoughts was a scary thing, and he needed to talk to someone before they had the chance to consume him.
I’m headed to Europe.
Why are you going to Europe? Are you a stowaway on this ship? That’s pretty illegal sounding.
He smiled to himself. If only you knew all the things he head done. Stowing away on this ship seemed like child’s play compared to his past. There really wasn’t anything humorous about it, but Bucky still couldn’t help but laugh at the irony of it all.
Needed a change of scenery. It’s a long story.
We’re both awake. Might as well tell me.
Probably shouldn’t.
Your sigh filled his mind, and suddenly he felt guilty, but he wasn’t sure why. Just because you were his soulmate, that didn’t mean he had to tell you every single detail of his life. Right?
Does it take effort to be this exhausting or does it just come naturally?
Hey, you’re the one still awake, I thought I would help you out a bit. Doesn’t talking to me just make you want to fall asleep?
You’re also still awake, fuck head.
Yeah, but I have an excuse. It’s almost morning in Europe. Gotta get used to that time change now while I can.
He could hear the sound of your laugh bounce around the walls of his brain, and he was shocked when the corners of his mouth involuntarily twitched upward.
It would be a complete lie if Bucky said he wasn’t starting to grow fond of you, despite the few and far between interaction he’d had with you. There was something about your quick wit and hardheadedness that he found equally obnoxious and endearing. The compassion that you held for him despite never having met him was overwhelming at times, for he could barely find a reason to care for himself, let alone have someone else care about him. And he found it comforting that even though he was alone most of the time, somehow he wasn’t ever really alone.
Still can’t believe you’re going to Europe.
Yeah. Me neither.
Which country are you going to?
The question stumped him. Truth be told, he hadn’t put much thought into it other than he needed to get out of the States. With the Hydra files released to the government, that meant his entire ledger was in their hands, which made him a wanted man. Getting on the cargo ship was an impulse decision. He couldn’t even remember the location of the docks he had heard some of the crew discussing as he snuck on board. All he knew was that it was as far away from where the danger appeared to be.
The hardest part about it was, he had a list of European countries running through his mind, but not a clue of where to go. He knew dozens of languages, the only plus side to his time at Hydra, so that wasn’t a problem. The issue was, he didn’t have a place in the United States. What made him think he had a place in Europe? Or anywhere, for that matter?
Where do you think I should go?
He could feel the intensity of your thoughts grow, as you seriously considered his question. Flashes of a map of Europe filled his mind, and he knew that you had looked up a map to review.
Let me just close my eyes and…
There was a long, dramatic pause. Bucky stared at the ceiling above him, anticipatingly waiting for what you were about to say. He found himself trying to guess what you would pick. Maybe Britain. Or Ireland. Germany? Or Poland? The options were endless, and he found himself slightly frightened by the idea.
Bucharest, Romania.
Eyebrows up to his hairline, Bucky let out a laugh, surprised. Of all of the places he thought you would name, he never would’ve guessed that.
Why there?
Because that’s the city the Finger of Destiny chose for you.
He laughed again, and you were laughing with him. It made him feel so full. There hadn’t been laughter in his life for a very long time. Honestly, a part of him had forgotten what the feeling felt like.
Well, thank goodness I already know Romanian.
Where the fuck did you learn Romanian?
Bucky looked down at his hands in his lap, smiling slightly. There was so much he ached to tell you, but everything in him screamed not to.
Long story.
~~
You’re doing it again.
Putting my underwear away?
That generally doesn’t come with a side of thinking about dying, now does it?
I went a la carte.
Despite the fact that you were trying to be serious, you couldn’t help but audibly snort. Tony, Pepper and Rhodey all looked up at you, but you continued to stare down at your dinner plate, pushing your food around with your fork.
“Care to share with the class what’s so funny?” Tony asked curiously. You didn’t blame him. The whole time you had been sitting at the table, you didn’t contribute to any sort of conversation in the slightest. So of course you laughing at random was going to trigger him into trying to make you participate. You knew, deep down, that he was just Tony being Tony. And it was clear he was still worried about you.
“Just thought of a funny video I saw earlier, that’s all,” You lied, before flipping your mind back.
You’re funny and all, but it’s really concerning how much you think about dying.
It just… happens.
You sighed as you stared down at your food. It happened more often than you liked, catching James thinking about death. It wasn’t always suicidal either, necessarily. Sometimes it was in preparation for his death, or dreams about dying.
Things have seemed pretty okay though. You just got a job. You’re off the street. Things are okay.
They’re just always there, gnawing at the back of my mind. Like a toddler chewing at table legs.
The palm of your hand found your forehead as you tried to bite back a laugh, not wanting to cause another disturbance.
So in this scenario, your brain is a table leg and your suicidal thoughts are a toddler? Am I getting this right?
That would be correct.
It was almost irritating just how funny he could be. The type of humor that was almost always dripping with sarcasm. Outlandish words in a deadpan voice. You found yourself always wondering if he was like this in person, or if he kept it confined to his head strictly for you.
Using humor to deal with your problems will only help you for so long.
It’s been doing me pretty good so far.
You’ve only been you for about six months now. What are you gonna do if it stops working?
Then I’ll finally jump the gun and kill myself.
A lump formed in your throat and you began to feel nauseous. Everyone looked up at you again when you stood up quickly from your seat.
“I don’t feel so good, I’m gonna go lay down,” You said hurriedly in a soft tone before all but running out of the room, giving no one the chance to speak. You thought you heard Tony call out your name, but you didn’t turn back to confirm it.
That’s not funny.
Who said I was joking?
Without meaning to, you slammed the door to your bedroom closed. You stared blankly at the floor while trying to think of what to say, but you had no clue. You wished you could talk to him in person. It would be so much easier if you were actually there. But now he was countries away, and you were only a voice in his head.
You need to get help, James. Talk to someone.
I’ll figure it out. I always seem to.
You lowered yourself onto your mattress, burying your face in your hands. Whatever sadness he felt, it was filling you too.
Can you figure out a way to do it that doesn’t involve your death? Because I would be lying if I said I haven’t grown kinda fond of you.
There was silence for a second, and you wondered if you had said too much. You were about to lay down in defeat when you heard him again.
I’ll do my best, only because I guess I’ve grown pretty fond of you too.
There was no time to react before your door swung open and Pepper let herself in, closing the door behind her. You made a mental note to start locking it.
“So,” She started. “When were you going to tell me you have a soulmate now?” Your jaw dropped open, as your mind drew blank. For a second, you wondered if you had actually heard her right, but then again, what else would she have said?
“I- what?” You asked, shaking your head blankly. “W-” You froze for another few seconds, before sighing deeply. “How did you know?” She laughed as she crossed the room, sitting next to you on the bed.
“Please,” She said, shaking her head. “You’ve had that ‘lights are on but nobody’s home’ look for the past six months. You never talk anymore. You always seem to be inside your head. That’s exactly how I was when I was old enough to understand the whole soulmate thing.” Pepper tilted her head, a smug smirk on her face. “Tony and Rhodes may be oblivious, but don’t think for a second that I haven’t known for a while now.” You smiled sheepishly at her.
“Sorry I didn’t say anything,” You said quietly. She shifted so she was facing you now. Her face was a cross between surprised and sympathetic.
“Don’t be sorry, just tell me all about him!” She exclaimed, her smile unbreakable. “Tell me what happened to cause this! Where has he been?”
You bit your lip. It was a good question, that even you still didn’t have answers to. How did this happen? How were you supposed to explain it in a way that made sense when it barely made sense to you?
“Well,” You started. “I can start from the beginning, but there’s really not a lot to tell.”
~~
You had fallen asleep hours ago, and Bucky was both grateful and resentful towards you for it.
The rumble of the air conditioning unit filled the quiet air of his tiny apartment. For a while, he had the TV on, but it wasn’t enough to drown out the terror that was his thoughts. Nothing was. His mind was on overdrive, but not in a good way.
It started with a nightmare that had occurred the evening before. He was with you. Though Bucky had never seen you, he just knew the figure slow dancing with him was you. He could just tell. And the sound of your voice was a giveaway as well. The big room you two stood in the middle of was a large gymnasium, one that looked familiar to Bucky, and it was decorated as if it was prom. But there was no one else around. You donned a deep purple gown, and you looked stunning. He couldn’t take his eyes off you. Then, all of a sudden, he turned into the Winter Soldier. Like a switch had flipped. The fear in your eyes were still haunting his memories, but nothing compared to the way your neck felt between his fingers and your body going limp. It all felt so real. He woke up screaming, and hadn’t slept since.
That was what he was afraid of. The idea of being with you, and then inevitably hurting you. He was a threat, he always would be. That’s why, despite over a year passing since you had popped into his head, he still kept you at a distance. Even though he had began to let you in some as his feelings for you grew stronger, it was never enough. You still referred to him as James. He told you that he had a job, but wouldn’t mention where. Nothing identifying, and he knew you picked up on it.
The hard thing for him was, you began to do the same. When you talked about the father figure in your life, you never mentioned him by name. You’d tell him about your schooling, but you didn’t tell him what you were studying or where you were going to school. If you were in another country, and he asked why you were there, you’d never tell him. He knew this was you closing him off because he continued to do the same to you, and no matter how hypocritical it was, he couldn’t help but feel saddened by it.
In the process of you distancing yourself, he was beginning to close off hope for himself as well. You were, some days, the thing that made him get out of bed in the morning. As unhealthy as he knew it was to put so much reliance on you, he needed to hold onto something. And you were the only good thing he had. Part of him was hoping that with your influence, he’d be able to find the worth in himself that you seemed to see.You were such a light in his life, and it was hard not to find solace in you. Even still, that didn’t stop him from having his bad days. The thoughts didn’t dissipate. He just got better at hiding them from you. He didn’t want you to worry, although he knew you did anyway. On some days, like this one, they were worse than others.
Though it was almost four in the afternoon, he couldn’t get out of bed. Every muscle in his body somehow ached and felt numb at the same time. He was drowning in his mind, his dream on rerun.
You’ll hurt her.
Kill her more than likely.
You don’t deserve her.
You don’t deserve anyone.
Hot tears streamed down Bucky’s face as he grabbed the sleeping bag and pulled it over his head. He knew all these things, there was no need for a reminder. He thought about it almost every single time you spoke to him, he just started blocking you out of those parts of his mind. It already frustrated you that you blocked him out, but he didn’t want you to see that he was just saving you from the darkness that filled him. He didn’t want to be a dark cloud looming over your life.
You should die.
You should die.
Die.
Die.
Die.
The entirety of his body shook, as his grip on the sleeping bag so tight that it was leaving the knuckles of his flesh hand white. Everything was coming back to him. Every ounce of pain or blood spill he had ever caused. When would the guilt stop? When would his misery end?
Good morning, stranger.
Everything in him froze.
Are you okay? I can feel your panic.
As if by instinct, he shook his head.
No, I’m fine. Just thought I lost something. How are you?
Just woke up. Not much to report. I had a hard time sleeping last night. I woke up in a panic like I had a bad dream, but I don’t remember what the dream was about. It was weird.
His jaw clenched as he threw the sleeping bag from his head, rolling onto his back and rubbing his eyes. More than likely, the reason you didn’t remember your dream was because you didn’t have one at all.
That is weird.
~~
“Are you really gonna sign that?”
“It’s the right thing to do.”
You stared down at the open book on your lap, the words were small and filled with legal terms that you didn’t fully understand, as hard as you may have tried to. Steve had given you a slight run down of the meeting with the Senator when you caught him rushing to leave, but he seemed distracted, so you let him go, deciding to ask Tony himself. It took you a couple of days, but you finally bulked up the courage.
For a few minutes, you kept your mouth shut, staring out the plane window. Tony had been in a rush when he told you he had to go to Berlin, and he wasn’t too keen on you asking if you could go too. But you had been stuck alone with your thoughts for a good portion of the day, and you just couldn’t deal with just sitting around the penthouse any longer. The last you had heard from James, he had been out shopping, and then suddenly he abruptly cut you off. And you hadn’t heard from him since.
As hard as you tried to not say anything, curiosity got the better of you. Emptying your lungs in a sigh, you turned back to Tony. He was angry, it was clear by his face, and for a second, you thought about just letting it go. But you knew better than anyone that sometimes, Tony could be arrogant and stubborn, and sometimes he needed to be talked down from himself. And it this situation, since Pepper wasn’t around, it had to be by you.
“None of what Steve told me made it sound that way,” You told him, slowly. But the way he rolled his eyes made it clear that your attempts to not start a fight weren’t working.
“Rogers isn’t thinking things through,” Tony snapped, his head rolling to stare at the window. “Which was only made more evident by his recent actions.” The venom in Tony’s voice made you tilt your head slightly. If there had been an argument between him and Steve, no one had let you in on it.
“What happened with Steve?” You asked. Before Tony could respond, the commercials from the TV that was on behind you switched to the news.
“Trouble was avoided in Bucharest today when Romanian police apprehended Captain America, who was aiding the escape of known assassin, James Buchanan Barnes, who in the past has gone under the alias of the Winter Soldier…” The newscast continued with the story, but you had stopped listening. Something about the report had caught your attention, and now it was all you could focus on.
Bucharest, Romania.
Captain America and James Buchanan Barnes.
James Buchanan Barnes.
James.
Slowly, you turned back to Tony, with your eyebrows furrowed together and your mind working at a pace of a thousand miles a second.
“Barnes… Isn’t that Steve’s friend from the Howling Commandos?” You asked, recalling what you had read from the museum exhibit when you were researching it. Tony sighed, nodding his head.
“Hydra turned them into their little murder machine,” He said angrily. “He made a real mess a couple years back in DC. And then he went off the grid. Steve and Sam went off on a road trip adventure to find him and had no luck, until he decided to commit mass homicide.” He huffed before turning back towards the window, crossing his arms over his chest. You looked back down at the book in your lap. You remembered the incidents with the Winter Soldier all too well. A conversation you had with Steve not long after the final confrontation with him flashed into your head.
“I think I brought him back,” He had told you over the phone. “The way he looked at me when I said it…I could just tell that in some way, it was Bucky looking at me. The real Bucky.”
You looked out the window, covering your mouth with your hand. How was this possible? Was it just a huge coincidence? Almost as soon as the Winter Soldier dropped off the face of the Earth, you had a soulmate in your head? Were you grasping at straws, or was this the epiphany you had always wanted?
Slowly, you pulled out your phone. You didn’t realize your hands were shaking until you kept messing up your passcode, only one fuck up away from locking your phone when you finally got to your home screen. As steady as possible, you typed in Smithsonian Air and Space Exhibits into the search bar. Your screen burst with red, white and blue when you clicked on the Captain America exhibit, scrolling through the gallery pictures. It was longer, more detailed since you looked at it almost two years ago. Nothing of value came up, and you almost closed out of the browser, when you got to the last picture and saw it.
The memorial for James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes.
I found myself at the Smithsonian yesterday.
You wouldn’t be able to describe it if you tried, but the rush of emotions that filled you let you know. It was like your eyes were glued to your phone screen.
That was him.
This was the voice inside your head all this time.
It was too much. Your stomach was churning so hard that you felt like you were going to be sick.
James?
No answer. You squirmed in your seat, feeling Tony’s eyes on you but not bothering to acknowledge them. What were you supposed to tell him? He didn’t even know you had a soulmate. So how would you explain that not only do you have a soulmate now, but it just so happens to be the man who’s being accused of blowing up a building and murdering dozens of people?
James.
Biting your lip as the radio silence continued, you began to wring your hands in anxiety. You needed a response, you needed answers. But mainly, you wanted to know that he was okay. You would’ve been fine with some sort of response at this point. Something. Anything. Sighing deeply, you let your head fall onto your shoulder. For a second, you almost didn’t say it. But you had to know. You just had to know if you were right. After a few seconds of debate with yourself, you sighed again.
Bucky?