Fear gripped Bucky, his jaw working, he tried to figure his way out of the situation, he watched, he analyzed, he heard…
The flipping of pages, that drat red book was coming closer… those footsteps, the torturer returning. He quivered in the heavy chains, the loud clanking momentarily blocking the cursed sounds. He knew what was going to come next, he had seen the video footage. He shook his head to clear the memories but they came flooding back.
The first thing he was aware of was the drab, grey walls. Next, a single weak ray of light pulsated from a miniscule hole in the dry bricks. Sunlight? He wondered as he strained towards it, his muscles bulging as he attempted to force himself away from the iron manacles drilled, nailed and locked into the walls. He pulled, lurching forward, but the chains were always there, he couldn't move…
"Bucky, Bucky, Bucky!" Bucky jerked awake to find himself in a soft feather bed, the rough chains gone, replaced by Steve's calloused hands, gentle, yet firm on his arms as Steve held him to his chest. In that moment, with Steve's comforting presence, his heartbeat strong rhythmic, Bucky felt the tremors recede as the nightmare faded before his eyes until all he was aware of was Steve.
Steve rocked back and forth gently as he felt Bucky's tense muscles slowly relaxed into him. He didn't know what had happened to Bucky exactly but he knew he was going to be there for him for every step of the way in their new life together. He shifted Bucky gently into a sitting position, he cupped his hands around Bucky's chin, "This day is not going start itself, what say we go grocery shopping? We've got an almost empty fridge and no cows to milk."
Bucky looked up at his life partner, the vulnerability on his face slowly rearranging itself into a smile as he thought of going around town with his beloved. He needed a distraction, something to turn his mind to the future away from the past. "I would love that," he said slowly as he gave Steve a quick peck on the cheek. Then, with both of them rising from the bed, they prepared for the day ahead.
The cold air blew from the cooling unit high above them as they made their way around the crowded store. An almost childlike wonder covered the both of them as they moved up and down the brightly coloured shelves stuffed with various varieties of food. Their hands linked, they ambled along, not hurried as they considered the world of possibilities around them. Suddenly, a blast of cold air hit them, buffeting Steve's golden tresses and Bucky's jet black waves. They had found it, finally, the milk aisle.
Moving down the aisle, they stopped to peer at the price tags around them. Suddenly, Bucky staggered back, mouth agape as he stared at the first price tag of a half-gallon carton of milk. Steve rushed to his side, wondering what the hell happened. Bucky pointed a slender finger at the milk, horror etched in his face as he beheld the sight before. "Seven dollars for a half-gallon of milk? What is this world coming to? What happened to 30 cents a gallon?"