Bucky Barnes was hard at work digging holes in the church garden. It was a warm day, and sweat trickled down his face. He reached his good hand up to wipe it away, only to brush dirt across his forehead. With a sigh, he set back to work with this spade. "Come get some lemonade!" a voice called out to him from the back door of the church. "You've been working all afternoon without a break!"
Bucky looked up and smiled at the elderly nun who held up a glass of pink lemonade to entice him away from his task. "I'll be right there," he called back. "I just want to finish the holes. It'll make planting that much faster."
"All right, it'll be in the kitchen when you're ready," she replied before retreating and shutting the door behind her.
Bucky smiled again and set back to work. He listened as birds chirped in the background and children played in the neighborhood. These were moments when he had to take a step back and truly appreciate his life as it currently stood.
He was slowly adjusting to the modern world, and feeling slightly more at ease. Once in a while, like now, he even felt safe. Reuniting with his best friend, Steve Rogers, and his new friends, Sam Wilson and Sister Mary Helen, had gone a long way to make him feel more secure.
As the months since reuniting with Steve at Christmas passed, he allowed himself to try new things, and discovered things he liked and disliked about life now. Microwave popcorn, year-round fruits and vegetables, and sitcoms were new favorites. The Golden Girls was the best, and he never missed an episode. The characters reminded him of the women he lived with. He and the sisters partook of the show during their afternoon tea every day. It was a ritual they all enjoyed.
There were also things he wasn't fond of in the modern world, too. Electronic devices that people seemed to be glued to, baffled him. To his point of view, people didn't talk to each other, they just looked at their little screens instead. And prices were astoundingly high now. How anybody could survive in this day and age was beyond him. The city was also deafeningly loud to his ears too. He had lived here a while now, but his ears had never adjusted to the noise. He'd grown up in Brooklyn, but he didn't remember it being so loud then.
The loud noise was more than a mere complaint or observation. Sometimes it caused him problems. He had found out the hard way that sudden loud noises tended to set off what Sam called "panic attacks". And sometimes, the sounds around him triggered old memories from his life before. Those could stagger him nearly as much as the panic attacks did. Sometimes a memory was fun or touching, but they could also be sad or upsetting. Generally, he preferred for his memories of before, to stay lost to him.
His new friend, Sam, had helped him immensely since Christmas. After reuniting with Steve, he and Sam had moved to Brooklyn to be closer to Bucky. Bucky was currently the handyman at his childhood parish, and was in no hurry to leave any time soon. He felt safe inside the church's walls, and every time he left, he had to fight the rising panic inside him that somebody would discover who he was. When they did, he knew they'd try to bring him back to HYDRA, or seek some form of vengeance upon him for his past sins. Sam or Steve went out with him somewhere every day, to give him practice, but it didn't seem like he would ever truly become comfortable in the world again.
When Bucky had finished digging holes in the church garden, he decided a break was in order. He went inside to join Sister Mary Helen and enjoy the lemonade she had poured for him.
(SCENE)
Later that afternoon, Sam walked into the living room where Bucky was drinking tea and laughing at the episode of The Golden Girls on the TV, and stopped to stare at him. "You cannot be sitting in here on a day like today," he said during a commercial break. "Let's get Steve and head out somewhere," he suggested.
Bucky didn't feel like explaining that he'd already been outside in the garden earlier. He didn't feel like going outside again, and remained sitting in his chair. "My show's on," he replied stubbornly.
Sam placed his hands on his hips. "It's a rerun. They've been playing for years. You can catch it some other time," he replied. "You haven't been outside the church boundaries all day."
Bucky sighed and glanced over at Sister Mary Helen for support. "I don't want to," he said firmly.
"Why don't you finish this episode and then go out with the boys," she suggested gently. "A nice walk will be good for you."
Bucky bit his lip and looked down at the tea cup in his hand. "All right," he grudgingly agreed. Sam sat down next to him and watched the rest of the episode with them.
Steve came into the room just as the show ended, and smiled at his friends. "So, are we going out?" he asked as Bucky stood up.
"I suppose," Bucky grumbled as he started walking towards the door.
Sam shook his head and stood up from his chair. "He's in one of his moods," he whispered to Steve as they walked behind Bucky.
"I heard that!" Bucky called out.
"Well you are!" Sam shot back.
Bucky trudged on ahead, doing his best to ignore both of the friends trailing behind him. Sometimes they irritated him, and this was one of those times. He couldn't explain it, really. He had been in a good mood earlier that day, but he wasn't in one anymore. Some days he just didn't want to talk or be around people. His emotions always seemed to change so quickly now. Sometimes his feelings were even, some days they were nearly absent, and sometimes they were a jumble in his head and it took all of his energy to make any sense of them. When he was able to sort them out, one from the other, he was left exhausted from the effort. Right now, his feelings felt close to the surface, like they wanted to break free of him. It was taking every scrap of energy he had to keep them contained. That's why sometimes, staying inside and watching TV with the sisters was the safest choice for him.
In spite of his earlier protests, the sun did feel good as he walked down the street. The angry feelings he'd felt welling up, ebbed and retreated back inside him. He turned left at the corner and continued for some time before coming up to a large group of people. He hated groups of people. Inevitably, they would recognize Steve or Sam and crowd in around them. It made him feel claustrophobic and nervous that somebody would recognize him as well. He darted quickly, deftly, through the crowd and emerged on the other side, unscathed. With a deep sigh of relief, he kept walking, not looking back to check on his friends.
He finally stopped when he reached a coffee shop he was familiar with, and ducked inside to order a snack. Steve kept him financed, as Bucky was currently working for no money. He pulled out his wallet and stood in line to place his order. He had discovered that coffee had evolved greatly since his time, and he enjoyed trying it all out. Since he'd just finished tea with the sisters, he just ordered coffeecake this time.
He was just sitting down with his food, when Sam and Steve finally caught up to him. They were breathless, and Steve's hair was uncharacteristically out of place. "Where have you two slow pokes been?" Bucky asked before taking his first bite.
"Being accosted by a group of Midwestern tourists," Sam said. "Thanks for waiting for us."
"You're welcome," Bucky replied glibly.
"Some of the women got a little aggressive," Steve added while trying to brush his hair back into place with his fingers.
"Some of the men did too, don't kid yourself," Sam added with a grin.
Steve rolled his eyes. "Yeah…Well, anyway, we're here finally." With that, he joined the line to place his drink order.
Sam sat down next to Bucky, and they waited for Steve to return. Bucky was still getting to know Sam. He liked the man, but they always seemed to have a sense of competition, for some reason. They were friendly enough, but he wasn't sure they were entirely friends. Allies definitely. Friends, maybe one day…Sam was a good counselor, though. It was Sam who helped him through his worst moments of panic, and taught him how to calm himself down again. Steve did his best, but was often too emotionally connected to be of much use.
Steve joined them a couple minutes later, and the three of them discussed what they wanted to do for the rest of the day. Bucky would have been content with going back to the church, but was quickly vetoed by the other two. Dinner and a movie was the event of choice by the other men, so Bucky had no choice but to join them.
"But, I've never heard of the Jungle Book," Bucky complained as they left the coffee shop.
"I saw the original animated version, it's good," Steve said. "And besides, I've been emailing with Natasha. She saw it and said there's a really cool snake in it. It'll be fun."
"It's either that or Batman vs. Superman," Sam added.
"I've never heard of them either."
"They're comic book characters," Same explained. "It's way more violent."
Bucky was silent for a moment as he mulled it over. He was guilty of so much violence in his own life that seeing it on screen was difficult for him to watch. "All right, Jungle Book it is," he conceded. "But I get to choose where we eat dinner."
Sam frowned. "Not that hotdog cart again…"
"But it's good!" Bucky turned and scowled at Sam. He had discovered a hotdog cart a few blocks from the church that sold food at prices he felt were reasonable, and had quickly grown attached to it.
"It's all you ever get! Why don't you branch out a little? Live a little?" Sam folded his arms.
"But I like it!" Bucky did his best to stay calm, even though he could feel the panic and anger welling up inside him again.
"But—"
"Hey, if Bucky wants hotdogs…again…then that's what he'll have," Steve interrupted. "You can get something else." Steve often took on the role of peacemaker between Bucky and Sam's arguments.
As they walked towards the theatre, Bucky thought about why he was so obstinate about things like eating and movies. He just liked knowing what was going to happen next. Predictability, routine, those things kept him safe. He had freedom again in his life, but ironically, that freedom made him feel more trapped than when he'd been a slave to HYDRA. Maybe one day he'd move beyond fear and be able to truly enjoy his life again. But today was not that day.
(SCENE)
A few weeks passed from then and Bucky was once more immersed in his routine-filled life. He had spent the day helping Sister Mary Helen with repairs around the church, when Sam stopped by to check in on him.
"Steve and I were gonna head over to Queens for dinner tonight. You wanna come?" Sam asked casually as Bucky stood on a ladder changing a lightbulb.
"Oh…well, the sisters and I were going to go to Bingo night…" Bucky replied slowly, trying to get out of going with his friends. He was in no mood to go out that evening.
"Bingo night will be here next week," Sister Mary Helen said. "You should go with them; it'll be fun."
Bucky glared at her for a moment. She looked up at him innocently and smiled. He sighed as he finished with the lightbulb and climbed down the ladder. "Oh, all right," he said grudgingly.
Sam grinned and clapped him on the shoulder. "It'll be good, you'll see," he promised. "But you have to shower and change your clothes cuz you are dirty."
Bucky looked down and saw that he had dirt streaks on his good arm. There were smudges all over this clothes too. "It's been a busy day," he replied. He left Sam and Sister Mary Helen and went to clean up.
When he'd finished getting ready, the three men left the church and went in Sam's car out to Queens. It was a long drive, longer than Bucky was used to, but he sat in the back and let Sam deal with the stress of driving. They ended up at a nice-looking Italian restaurant, and Bucky was glad he'd cleaned up before coming out or he'd have stood out in the worst way possible.
Steve had made reservations for them, so there wasn't a long wait once they were inside the restaurant. Bucky was happy that it wasn't too noisy inside. Old music played quietly, and occasionally he heard a song he was familiar with from his past. He was studying the menu when their server appeared at the table to ask them if they had any questions or would like to order drinks. Bucky looked up to see a pretty young woman standing before them. Her olive-toned skin, delicate features, and dark brown hair appealed to him. She looked familiar somehow, but he couldn't place her. Vera Lynn was singing in the background, a song he remembered from the war, about a nightingale in London. "Songbirds sing, winter turns to spring…" The old music and the pretty girl triggered in him an old, seemingly erased memory that came flooding back into his mind, unannounced. It wasn't just that he remembered it, it felt as though he was reliving it, right at that moment. His breathing grew hard and he looked back down at his menu, trying to will the memory away again, but to no avail. Somewhere in the distance, he heard Steve ask the server to come back later, that they still needed time to decide their orders.
"What is it?" Sam asked quietly. He gently placed one of his hands on Bucky's good hand. "Are you ok?"
Bucky's mind raced back to a night, long ago. A lifetime ago. It was the night of the Stark Expo, and he had arranged a double date for him and Steve, but Steve had ditched them to try to enlist in the Army, yet again. He had finally caught up with him, only to have Steve brush him off. Bucky had left with the two dates and gone on to enjoy the Expo with them.
"Where are you?" Steve asked, his voice bringing Bucky out of the memory, and back to the present. He was breathless and covered in sweat.
"The girl…that girl…I remember her…" he stammered.
"What girl? The server?" Sam asked. "We've never been here before. There's no way you would remember her."
Bucky breathed deeply for a minute, trying to compose himself. Once his heart had stopped pounding and he could speak again, he tried a second time. "Steve, do you remember Stark Expo? Back in '43? Our double date that wasn't?"
"Uh…vaguely," Steve replied, furrowing his brow. "That's the night I met Erskine. It was the night before you shipped out."
"The server looks like Connie, my date for that night."
"So?" Sam asked.
"She really looks like her," Bucky replied. "Like, a lot…"
"Well, maybe they're related," Sam said. "Maybe she's this Connie woman's granddaughter."
Bucky thought about the odds of that happening for a moment before Steve looked sharply at him. Suddenly, Steve's eyes narrowed. "Bucky…what did you do after Stark Expo that night?" he asked carefully.
Bucky looked stricken. "Well…Bonnie, that was your date, left, and Connie and I talked for a while," he replied slowly. "I told her about shipping off to war…"
"And how lonely it would be?" Steve replied with a frown. "And how long it would be before you would feel the comforting arms of a woman again?"
"Well, maybe something like that…"
"Oh, Bucky, tell me you didn't…Those lines were clichéd even then!"
Sam's eyes grew wide. "You and Connie…?"
"Didn't you at least use protection?" Steve hissed.
"The first time…We spent the whole night together before I shipped out."
"Oh, no…" Steve rubbed his temples and shook his head. "This is not good…"
The server returned at that moment to ask them if they were ready to order. All three men turned to stare at her. Bucky looked closely at her and confirmed that she did in fact, greatly resemble Connie from 1943. The only big difference was that this woman had blue eyes instead of brown. Blue eyes, just like his…
"Are you ready to order?" she asked with a smile.
Bucky felt his mouth grow dry and he nervously glanced at the menu. He'd completely forgotten about dinner. "Uh…" he stammered.
Sam cleared his throat and grinned up at the server. "I sure am…Cece," he said, looking at her nametag to see her name. "What would you recommend tonight?"
"Oh, well, we have a lovely grilled tuna served on a bed of linguini," she recommended.
"That sounds fantastic, I'll have that," Sam replied.
"Very good, and you sir?" she said, turning to look at Steve. Her eyes grew round as she clearly recognized who she was speaking to. "Uh…" She blushed and looked down at the small serving tray in her hands.
Steve smiled warmly as though to put her at ease. "I think I'll have the spaghetti and meatballs, the grilled chicken Caesar salad, and a full order of breadsticks, please," he said.
"All right…" Cece replied quietly, smiling back at him before turning to Bucky. "And what will you have tonight?"
Bucky tried to concentrate on the menu, but seemed to have forgotten how to read, because nothing made sense to him. Who could think of food at a time like this? "I'll have the…chicken marsala," he finally said, closing the menu and taking a deep breath. He hoped that was actually on the menu. "And could I get a couple shots of vodka, please?"
"Oh, I'll take a shot too," Sam added. "And an Old Fashioned for my man Steve here," he said with a grin, clapping Steve on the shoulder.
"I'll get your orders turned in now," Cece said before turning to leave.
When she had left their table, Bucky turned to look at Sam and Steve. "What am I going to do?" he hissed.
"Just pretend none of this happened," Sam advised. "You don't know anything did happen back then. If you leave it alone, it won't come back to bite you in the ass."
Steve took a deep breath and shook his head slowly. "But if there's a possibility that you got that girl pregnant…You owe it to her and her family to find out for sure. And you owe it to yourself, too."
"But how? That's going to be a pretty awkward conversation," Bucky said, his stomach tying in knots.
Cece returned a moment later with their drinks. "So, Cece," Sam said as he took his shot from her hand, "That's an unusual name…Is it short for anything?" He casually sipped his vodka and smiled up at her.
"Yeah, it's short for Constance," Cece replied as she handed Steve his Old Fashioned.
"Good name, Constance," Sam said. "People call you Connie?"
Bucky took his first shot before she replied in the affirmative, and his second shot when she went on, "But Connie was my great grandmother's name, so I go with Cece instead."
He set his shot glass on the table. "I'm going to need a couple more of these," he said quietly.
When Cece left a second time, Steve drained his Old Fashioned in one gulp. "I might need a few more of these too," he added, looking at his empty glass.
"But neither of you can get drunk," Sam reminded them.
"A man can dream," Bucky replied.
The rest of the evening was a blur for him. He didn't remember his food arriving or eating it, but he must have, because at one point in time, he looked down to see his plate was empty. All he could think about was the possibility of having gotten a girl pregnant before he'd shipped off to war. And then died. He'd wanted to have some fun before leaving, but never considered the idea of consequences of that fun. Was he looking at the consequences every time their server stopped by their table? He wasn't sure what to do, but it seemed certain that he wasn't going to be able to handle anything further tonight. When they'd finished their dinners, they paid for the meal, thanked Cece for her service, and left without any further incident.
(SCENE)
Bucky didn't sleep well that night. All the memories and emotions welled up inside him, and triggered even more memories. He kept waking up with images and the sensation of his capture and torture by HYDRA filling his head. After a while, he could no longer tell if he was dreaming or experiencing it for real Hirnlos! Haustier! Words barked at him by his handlers. His body hurt from the sting of their physical punishments, and the panic he lived with constantly for years, overwhelmed him as though he was feeling it for the first time. Each handler had used a different technique on him. One liked to cut him when he performed poorly. Another liked to use fire. He had learned very quickly to be good at everything he did, but he still had scars and burn marks on certain parts of his body that he kept secret.
Partway through the night, he woke up in a panic. There had been one handler he'd feared the most, the one who had not tortured him, but others, for his mistakes. This man had forced Bucky to watch and occasionally take part in it as well. He took great pleasures in the pain he caused others for mistakes Bucky had made. It was this looming figure that was currently filling his head. To his mind, it was a large black cloud, and not a person. Its screams and threats caused Bucky to wake up screaming. He was tangled up in his bedsheets and felt trapped. It was dark in his room and he was still in the past, screaming, when he felt strong hands on his shoulders, pushing him back down onto the bed. He fought back the best that he could, trying to escape his handler, but a second set of arms joined the first set a minute later, and held him down even harder, ensuring he could not escape. "Bitte! Bitte nein! Nein!" he cried out over and over.
"It's all right, Bucky!" The use of his name, and a familiar voice speaking English to him began to pull him out of the memories, and his screaming slowly subsided. The screams turned to wails as he felt the bedsheets being unwrapped from his body.
A dim light was suddenly turned on, allowing Bucky to see that it wasn't his HYDRA captors holding him down, but Steve and Sam. Both men had freed Bucky from the bedding, and gently helped him into a seated position. They sat down next to him on the bed, looking concerned.
"I knew something like this would happen tonight," Sam murmured before standing up and leaving the room. He had insisted that they stay over at the church that night, in spite of Bucky's protestations.
"I'm glad we stayed," Steve added quietly as he wrapped an arm around Bucky's shoulders and tried to comfort him.
Bucky was unable to speak. He was shaking, sobbing, and trying to calm himself down. It was taking longer for the memories of the past to flee from his mind. He felt like he was living in both times, simultaneously.
One thing he truly appreciated about Steve and Sam was that he felt safe enough around them to cry in their presence. Neither of them had ever judged him or disapproved, for which he was eternally grateful.
Sam reentered the room a minute later with a glass of water in his hand. He sat down next to Bucky and held it up to his lips. "Take a drink," he commanded gently.
Bucky took a long draught of the cool water and immediately started to feel better. The memories of HYDRA once again retreated into his past, where he wished they would stay. He took a deep breath as Sam set the glass of water on the bedside table. "What is wrong with me?" he croaked.
"I know we played it light tonight with the Connie stuff," Sam said, "but that was a major trigger for you. You got through it as best you could, but it was bound to play out more fully later on. Your mind was already in the past. Sleeping just allowed the memories to come to the surface."
"I'm never going to be normal again, am I?" Bucky asked in a quiet voice.
"Normal is overrated," Steve replied with a shrug. "But you're making progress every day."
"It's gonna take time, and you may never completely get it all back," Sam said realistically. "You've been through so much over the years. All the times they wiped your mind and froze and thawed you out. It's bound to take a toll on your mind." He sighed and furrowed his brow. "I don't want to discourage you; you really are making amazing progress, under the circumstances. But, your past experiences will influence what you become now, just like all of us. Nobody is who they were when they were younger."
"But I'm not younger, I'm still the same now as I was then."
"You know what I mean. You've lived, and that changes you."
Bucky's eyes fluttered shut. "I'm so tired, but if I sleep, they'll come back again." He forced his eyes open and sighed.
"How about we leave the light on?" Steve suggested. "That might help."
Bucky nodded his head and slipped back into the bed once his friends stood up. "I'm sorry to be so much trouble," he said with a yawn.
"You've always been trouble, why would this change anything?" Steve said lightly, grinning.
Bucky smiled slightly and rolled his eyes. "Gee, thanks," he replied as the other men left the room and Steve shut the door behind them. When he was alone once again, he settled back into the now-straightened bedsheets and did his best to try to fall asleep. Not much worked, though, and he was exhausted the next morning when he finally got up for breakfast.
Every morning, it was his job to prepare breakfast for the sisters he lived with. They were getting too old to cook, and always seemed terribly amused whenever he cooked for them. That morning he prepared oatmeal and bacon for them, but his mind was preoccupied with thoughts other than food. Besides the fleeting thoughts of his past trauma, the idea of possibly having gotten Connie pregnant so long ago was incredibly overwhelming. How could he find out if he had? Was she even alive still?
"Good morning, Bucky," Sister Mary Helen said in greeting as she walked into the kitchen, a smile on her face. "Did you have fun at dinner last night with the boys?"
Bucky opened his mouth to respond, but quickly shut it again. How was he going to answer that question? "It was interesting," he finally said in a quiet voice. He turned back to the stove and turned over pieces of bacon to distract himself.
"What was so interesting about it?" she asked, obviously trying to keep the conversation going.
Bucky looked up at the ceiling and took a deep breath. "Uh…It just, you know…" he stammered.
"It's all right, you don't have to tell me if you don't want to," she said before taking her customary seat at the table.
Bucky's heart pounded. "I…I need to talk to somebody about it," he nearly whispered. He turned and looked at her, an anguished look upon his face. "I don't know what to do…"
Sister Mary Helen frowned. "Do you want to talk to me as a friend or as a nun?" she asked, all seriousness now.
"I think I might need a priest for this one…"
"Oh my…it must have been a very interesting night, indeed."
"But I just don't know, and I don't know how I'm going to figure it out…"
"After breakfast, why don't you and I go to the sanctuary and speak privately. You can tell me what's bothering you and I can at least advise you if this needs to be escalated to a priest. Would you like that?"
Bucky thought for a moment. Sister Mary Helen was a safe person to speak to, and would know best how to handle the situation, or at least he hoped she would. "Yes, I think that would be for the best," he replied.
He wasn't able to say anything else because the rest of the sisters entered the room just then, followed closely by Sam and Steve. He smiled at everybody and began to fill bowls with oatmeal and pass them out. He set the platter of bacon in the center of the table and sat down at the last empty chair. Sister Mary Helen blessed the food and soon everybody was engrossed in a discussion about the latest goings on in the upcoming presidential election. Luckily, neither of the other men said anything about the revelations from the previous night.
Once breakfast had ended and Bucky had set all the dishes in the sink to soak, Sam and Steve left him to return to their apartment. Bucky slowly walked out of the kitchen and over to the sanctuary, where Sister Mary Helen was waiting for him. She didn't smile as he approached her; she was all business at the moment.
"Your heart is heavy today, my son," she said in greeting as he sat down in the pew in front of her. He sat facing away from her, looking up at the crucifix on the wall. "Perhaps sharing with me what is troubling you will help lighten that burden."
Bucky took another deep breath and folded his arms. "Last night, we went out to dinner, and the waitress, a nice, young girl, looked familiar to me, but I couldn't place it," he said quickly, deciding that the best way to say it was all at once. "But then I realized that she looked like this girl I dated before shipping off to Europe. We did…you know…And then I left and never saw or heard from her again. This waitress looks exactly like her, except for her eyes. Those look like mine…I just…I think maybe I got that girl pregnant and maybe this waitress is my great granddaughter or something." When he finished, he groaned. "What if it's true? How do I find out? This is just so crazy!"
Sister Mary Helen sighed and shook her head slowly. "If this is true, then you wouldn't be the only man to have done this to somebody before shipping off to war," she replied. "It doesn't make it right, of course, but war makes people do impulsive things sometimes."
"I'm a terrible person…"
"Well, I will agree that it probably wasn't your finest moment, but branding you a terrible person because of it is a bit extreme. None of us is the worst thing we've ever done. We are a sum of all our actions, and what is in our hearts."
"How can I find out if this is true?"
"Well, I suppose you could track this waitress down again and actually talk to her. See if you can find out about her family history and if it fits in with the woman you remember before you left for the war."
"She'll think I'm insane if I come right out and explain why I'm asking about her grandmother…"
"You may be surprised," Sister Mary Helen replied. "The world is not what it once was. Alien invasions, superheroes, madness, all of these things are becoming more commonplace. If she is familiar with Steve's history, then she might not have too much of a problem understanding your history. You just might leave out the Winter Soldier stuff, for now at least."
"But maybe I should just leave it alone. Maybe it's not true and it would only harass this family."
"You know finding out for sure is the right thing to do. For everybody involved, yourself included."
"But why?"
"Bucky, don't you realize it?" she asked, a smile slowly growing on her face. "If what you suspect is true, then that means you have a family!"
Family…Something he'd never really had before, outside of Steve. Flesh and blood family. His head reeled at the thought of having a family. Would they accept him as he was? A very damaged relic who had committed unspeakable atrocities for cruel people for decades? After all, he was no Captain America, returning from another time still a hero adored by many. They'd hardly be getting a prize from being associated with him. Rejection from people he knew to be his own relatives would be harder to take than not ever finding out one way or the other for sure. It was a risk, one he wasn't sure he wanted to take. But deep down, he knew it was the right thing to do. Not only did he need to know, but this family needed to find that missing piece of their history.
"I have to do this, don't I?" Bucky said aloud, more to himself than to her. "It's the right thing to do, and I have a lot of things to make right…" He straightened up in his seat as his resolve strengthened. "All right," he said with a nod of his head. "I'm going to do it. I'm going to go back to that restaurant and talk to her!"
"Atta boy!" Sister Mary Helen said, once again becoming the friendly person Bucky knew her to be.
Hearing her enthusiasm made his confidence grow. He could and would do this. "I'll go back out there tonight," he declared as he stood up from the pew. "Thanks, Sister, I'll let you know how it goes."
(SCENE)
The day passed slowly for Bucky as he waited for the dinner hour to arrive. He debated over inviting Steve and Sam to go with him or to go alone, and in the end, chose to go alone. This was a problem he'd created himself, and it was one he had to see through on his own.
Without a car, it took longer for him to travel to the restaurant in Queens on the subway. The restaurant was busy again, and as he hadn't made reservations, he had to wait nearly an hour before being seated. He lucked out though, and Cece was once again his waitress. "Oh, hey, I remember you from last night," she said with a smile as she stood in front of him.
Bucky smiled as nonchalantly as possible and shrugged his shoulders. "The food was too good to resist, and so was the service," he said smoothly. "I had to come back."
Cece beamed and blushed. "Oh, well…" she murmured.
Bucky went through the pretense of being there for a dinner and nothing else, but kept an eye on Cece the entire evening. He waited until she brought him his check to take the next step. "So, Cece," he said as he pulled out his wallet, "Would you be interested in getting a drink with me later tonight?" Seeing the way she had blushed at him had made him realize that flirting with her was possibly the best way to gain her attention. He felt very uncomfortable, but didn't see any other way around it.
"My shift ends in a half hour," she replied slowly. "If you want to wait that long, we could meet up afterwards. There's a bar just across the street. The nice one, not the dumpy one. You can't miss it. You could get us some seats and I'll join you when I'm off work."
Bucky smiled again and handed her the check with cash to cover the bill. "I'd love that," he replied. Cece blushed again and smiled before running off to help another of her tables. Bucky stood up and put his jacket on before leaving the restaurant.
The two bars across the street were next door to one another, but it was very easy to distinguish the nice one from the "dumpy" one, and he walked over to the nice bar and went inside. It was not a terribly busy night and he was able to easily find a booth where he could see when she arrived through the door. He noted the emergency exit in the back, as he was accustomed to, and ordered a beer.
Bucky's nerves were calm until he saw Cece walk into the bar. His heart pounded as he knew that the time had come to try and figure out his history, and how she might react to it. He stood up and waved at her. "Cece," he called out. She grinned at him and rushed over to the table. He waited until she'd sat down before returning to his own seat.
"Wow, you have good manners," she commented as she took her jacket off and set it on the seat beside her. She ran her fingers through her long brown hair and leaned into the table to look at him with her big blue eyes. She had the same grin Connie'd had. The one Bucky had found irresistible.
"What can I say, I'm an old-fashioned guy," Bucky said as he motioned for one of the servers to come over to them. They placed drink orders and sat back and smiled at one another once the server had left. "So…tell me about yourself," he requested after a minute of awkward silence.
"Well…I don't know that there's much to tell, really," Cece replied. "I was born and raised in Queens, my whole family is still here. I'm living the typical "actress who waits tables to pay the bills" sort of life, and hope to one day make it big on Broadway. You know, the usual…"
"Those sound like ambitious dreams to me," Bucky replied earnestly.
"And what about you?" Cece asked as the server placed their drinks in front of them. "Tell me your story. Start with your name. You've actually never told me that!"
Bucky stopped cold. What should he say to her? The truth would never do to start with. That would require easing into. "Oh, well, my name is James Barnes, but my friends call me Bucky. Sort of a childhood nickname that never wore off. I'm from Brooklyn and still live there. I was in the service, but I have recently left," he said carefully. "I guess you could say I'm trying to figure out what to do next. What my life is all about now."
"Oh…is that what happened to your hand?" Cece asked with a frown. "I noticed it tonight. It's some sort of special prosthetic, isn't it?"
Bucky looked down at his left hand and couldn't help but feel self-conscious about it. He was always careful to wear long sleeves or a coat when he was out in public, but sometimes people still noticed it. "Yes, I lost my arm in the war," he said honestly. "It's definitely a one-of-a-kind prosthetic."
"Well, I think it's cool looking," Cece replied with a grin.
Bucky had been studying terms and phrases that were used now, and knew that "cool" didn't mean "cold," but "interesting and exciting". He was grateful for having studied because words had changed a lot over the years and he had avoided several potentially awkward conversations since his return. "Thanks," he said before taking a swig of his beer.
"So, what sorts of things do you like to do?" Cece asked. "What kind of job do you think you want?"
Bucky furrowed his brow. "I haven't really thought about it," he said. "I've been helping out around my neighborhood parish, but I suppose I can't do that forever. I'll have to move on at some point." He took another swig of his beer to cover up his discomfort. The thought disturbed him.
Cece smiled and sipped her wine. "That's really nice of you to help your church out like that. You seem like the perfect guy," she said lightly. "That must mean there's something terribly wrong with you…It always seems to be that way!"
If only you knew…Bucky thought to himself. "I'm definitely not perfect," he assured her. There was a comfortable silence for a while after that before he worked up the nerve to ask her more about her life. "So…tell me more about yourself. Tell me about your family."
"Oh, my family is great," she said, looking thoughtful. "I'm the oldest of three kids, the only girl. My family is really tightknit. We all still live close by. My parents live a few blocks away and my grandparents live just down the street. I have a bunch of aunts, uncles, and cousins, and we're always hanging out together. It's just like in My Big Fat Greek Wedding, only we're Italian, you know?"
Bucky didn't, but nodded politely anyway. "That sounds great," he replied. "A big family sounds like a lot of fun." He took a sip of his beer and continued on. "I remember last night you told us you were named after your great grandmother. That's a nice tribute to her."
"I didn't know her very well before she died, unfortunately," Cece said, nodding her head, "but she was a great lady, from what I heard my grandfather say about her. She had a bit of a rough life, but she was tough as nails. She was a single mom back in a time when that really was not acceptable, but she made it work. I like to think that I'm strong like her, and that she'd be proud of me."
"I'm sure she would be," Bucky said, his heart pounding to have what he felt was more confirmation. "You seem to have a good head on your shoulders and a lot of plans for your future. Who wouldn't be proud of that?"
Cece smiled demurely. "Thanks."
Bucky took a deep breath. This was the moment where he put it all on the line. This would either end well or badly, there was no in between. "So, speaking of last night," he said, redirecting the conversation, "You saw who I was with, right? It seemed like you recognized him."
"It was Captain America, wasn't it? Everybody knows him, but I never thought I'd see him in the flesh!"
Bucky nodded. "Yes, it was him. His name is actually Steve Rogers. Do you know his story?"
"What, that he was from World War Two and was frozen and then they thawed him out and he's here now? And something about super soldier and he's an Avenger."
"Yeah, all of that is true."
"How do you know him?"
"Well, that is a funny thing…I know him because…we grew up together in Brooklyn. The war I served in was the same one he served in. It's when I lost my arm…We were both frozen and now we're both back." He finished his beer while Cece took all of that in.
She looked at him skeptically. "Wait, what? How come nobody knows about you, then?"
"Well, he's the hero…I was just the sidekick…"
Cece shook her head. "That's rough," she replied. "Is that why your prosthetic is so weird? I mean, it's cool, but nobody has a prosthetic like that. Was it some old design, like before they knew what they were doing?"
"Something like that…"
"Huh…"
The look of bewilderment on Cece's face told Bucky that he'd gone as far as he could with revelations for now. It would take a while for it to sink in for her, and he didn't want to push her too far. At least she seemed to believe him about being from the past. That was half the battle. "Look, it's late, and you probably need to get home soon," he said after a minute. "It's been a lovely evening, but we should probably get out of here now, don't you think?"
"Yeah, I have an audition tomorrow before my shift, so I should get some sleep."
"Hey, good luck with that!"
Cece was silent for a moment as she gazed at him. She seemed to be sizing him up. Finally, she spoke again. "Why don't we get together again in a couple days? My day off is on Thursday. We could do lunch."
"Sure, I'd like that." Bucky smiled and began to feel hopeful.
"It's a date then! Hey, why don't you put your phone number into my phone?"
"Oh…I don't have a phone…But I can give you the number to the parish."
"Wow, you really are from another time…Sure, give me that number so we can make arrangements to meet." Bucky gave her the number and watched as she typed it into her phone. "All right, I'll call you to make plans." She stood and put her jacket on. "Thanks for the drink." With that, she left the bar.
Bucky smiled as he watched her leave. After paying his bill, he put his jacket on and left as well.
(SCENE)
Sam and Steve were at the church waiting for Bucky when he arrived later that night. Steve was pacing the kitchen floor, his arms folded, looking concerned. Sam was watching the local news on the small TV set on one of the counters. "Well, I'm not hearing any reports of anything out of the ordinary," he reported. "He must be ok…"
"I'm fine, guys," Bucky said in greeting as he walked into the room. He had come up from behind them and both men jumped when they heard his voice.
"Sister Mary Helen told us what you were doing," Steve said, clutching his hand over his heart. "You should have told us. We should have gone with you."
Bucky shook his head. "I had to do this alone," he replied. "This is my problem, I have to solve it myself."
"But after last night, are you sure you should be doing this on your own?" Sam asked, switching off the TV set and folding his arms. He looked disapproving.
Bucky shrugged his shoulders. "I just felt like I would be ok with it," he said. "And I was. I went back to the restaurant and Cece was there. We went across the street after her shift ended. Had drinks at a bar. Talked, got to know her. I sort of had to tell her about the whole past, frozen thing…Lucky you were at the restaurant the night before, Steve, it made for an easy explanation. We're meeting again in a couple days for lunch and I'll tell her the rest then. I wanted her to have some time to absorb all of this first."
Sam scrunched his nose. "You went on a date with your granddaughter?"
"Great granddaughter, actually, I think…"
"Please don't date your great granddaughter," Sam said. "That's just all kinds of nasty."
"It wasn't a date! It was just drinks and talking and in a couple days it'll be lunch," Bucky retorted before folding his own arms and frowning. "Now that I hear it, I see what you mean…It's not a date though!"
"All right, it's not a date, but you still need to be careful," Steve cut in. "You told her about your past. You don't know all that much about this girl, and you revealed a lot about yourself to her. I think you need to proceed with caution."
It hadn't even occurred to Bucky that he was being so reckless when he'd told Cece about his past. He'd been so wrapped up in the possibility of finding out more about the missing pieces of his life that he hadn't even considered the potential danger involved. "I will, don't worry," he said quietly.
"I think we should stay over again tonight," Sam said. "You've been through a lot today, there's no telling what it might trigger."
They were all relieved, however, when Bucky slept through the night uninterrupted. He felt refreshed and full of hope and possibilities the next day. He worked in the garden, waiting for Cece to call and make arrangement for lunch the next day.
The phone rang a few times, but it was never for him. He hoped she would call and that he hadn't scared her off with the story of his past. Even if it turned out that they weren't related, it felt nice to be connected to yet somebody else in these new times.
That afternoon, Sam decided to set up the grill in the backyard and cook hotdogs and hamburgers for everybody at the church. He, Bucky, and Steve stood around the grill, drinking beer and chatting. "Hey, does your arm conduct heat?" Sam asked. "I dare you to flip the burgers with your metal hand and see what happens."
"That's dumb," Bucky replied, rolling his eyes.
"Chicken," Sam retorted.
Bucky frowned and reached his hand out towards the grill when they were interrupted by a voice calling out from behind them. "Boys, we have some guests!" Bucky stopped in mid motion and turned to see Sister Mary Helen ushering Cece and two young men out the back door and onto the porch. "Why don't you see if they'd like to join us for lunch?" With that, she returned to the kitchen to work on preparing condiments for the grilled food.
"Cece," Bucky said, smiling at her. "I thought you were going to call. I thought you had to work today."
"I do, later," she replied curtly.
"Who are your friends?" he asked, ignoring her attitude.
"This is my cousin Johnny," she said, pointing to a man in his early twenties. He had dark hair like she did. "And this is my brother Nick," she said pointing to the other man. He was about the same age as Johnny and had the same colored hair. He was rather taller than Johnny, though, and Bucky had to crane his neck to look into his face. He had the same blue eyes Cece had. Bucky's eyes.
"Well, it's a pleasure to meet you both," he said politely. "Would you all like to join us for lunch?"
"We need to talk first," Cece said as she reached into her purse and pulled out a sheet of paper. "Alone, if possible."
"Uh, sure," Bucky said, his stomach clenching at the thought of whatever was about to happen. "We can go around the corner here. Steve and Sam will stay by the grill." He led them around to the side yard. The grim looks on Johnny and Nick's faces didn't make him feel any less nervous.
Cece took a deep breath and started to talk. "This morning before my audition, I stopped by my grandparents' place to check in on them," she said calmly. "We had coffee and got caught up on all the latest family news. I told them about you and how I was going to be meeting you tomorrow for lunch. They're always wondering when I'm going to settle down and get married…Anyway, my grandfather had the most interesting reaction to hearing your name and your story. He sort of freaked out, which for an old guy, was kind of scary to watch. He got up from the table and dug out the family Bible and showed me something. Would you like to take a guess as to what it might have been?"
Bucky shrugged lamely. He had a feeling he knew where this was headed, but wanted her to say it in her own way.
"It was his original birth certificate from 1944. I found it so fascinating that I made a copy of it and decided I just had to show you." With that, Cece thrust the piece of paper into Bucky's good hand.
Bucky looked down at the paper and saw "James Buchanan Barnes" listed as the father on the birth certificate. His heart pounded and he felt light-headed. Connie was listed as the mother. The child's name was Francis James Morelli. She'd given him her surname, not his. He clutched the copy to his chest. "This is what I was going to talk to you about tomorrow," he said quietly. "When I saw you the other night, you looked so much like Connie that it triggered a very old memory. I don't remember things too well anymore, but sometimes things come back to me suddenly. I thought maybe you were related to her, and then I remember that she and I had…you know…before I left for Europe. I honestly didn't know. She never contacted me and I never wrote to her. I never knew…"
"We still have to do a DNA test to prove it for sure," Johnny said. "But if it's true, and you are Grandpa Frankie's dad, then that…" he trailed off, looking unsure of himself.
"That makes me your great grandfather," Bucky finished for him. "All of you…"
"Not just the three of us," Nick added. "There's my brother Laurenzo and Johnny has five brothers and sisters and we have at least six other aunts and uncles with kids. I have sixteen cousins on that side of the family. You might have a lot of DNA floating around Queens, you know…"
Bucky wasn't sure what "DNA" was, but it sounded impressive. "How do we test it?" he asked.
"You'll have to get a DNA sample, and Grandpa Frankie will too, and then a lab tests it to see if there's enough matches to prove you're related," Johnny explained.
Cece looked at Bucky and smiled slightly. "Basically, you stick a cotton swab in your mouth and scrape it against your cheek. It collects the cells they need to look at for a match," she explained further. She must have caught onto his cluelessness.
"Oh, I see," he replied quietly.
"We can get a kit at the drug store, get the samples and mail it off," Nick said. "They'll mail the results in a week. Then we'll know for sure."
After how quickly things had come about recently, waiting a week to get confirmation felt like an eternity. There was no other choice, unfortunately. They'd all have to be patient. Before he could respond, though, Steve called out that the food was ready. "Would you like to join us for lunch?" Bucky asked with a smile.
"Sure," Cece said. "And afterwards, I need to head out to work and the guys can go to the drug store. We can get the swabs done today and maybe even out in the mail too."
They walked quietly back around to where Sam and Steve were manning the grill. Sister Mary Helen and the other nuns had joined them and were seated at the picnic table with plates laden with food. Cece and her family members each grabbed plates from the table and took hotdogs and hamburgers that Steve offered to them.
Bucky held back a moment and let them go first before taking his own turn. Once he had filled his plate, he sat down at the table, in between Cece and Sister Mary Helen. The older woman patted his good hand for a second. It was a wonderful moment of comfort that he needed very badly just then. He never knew how she knew when he needed her reassurance, but he was glad she did.
Food seemed to help calm everybody down and break the ice, and soon the group was engulfed in laughter and people joked, told stories, and generally enjoyed each other's company. Bucky laughed more during that meal than he had since his return. He was startled, though, to hear Nick laugh at a joke, and it was identical to his own. Steve seemed to notice it as well, for he looked back and forth at the two men before shaking his head slowly and smiling.
When the meal ended, Cece left for work. Nick and Johnny went to find the nearest drug store. Steve clapped Bucky on the shoulder. "You know, you can do any test you want to prove you're related, but I don't think you need one. They look like you, you know," he said as they gathered up plates to return to the kitchen.
"They do? I know some of them have the same color eyes as mine," Bucky replied.
"Johnny has the same shaped nose, and Nick has your laugh," Steve explained. "And Cece has your coloring."
Bucky shook his head. "And they're just the tip of the iceberg," he said quietly. "They have tons of siblings and cousins and aunts and uncles. And they all live in Queens."
"And your son…"
Bucky took a deep breath and sat down on the picnic bench. "He's there too," he said in a whisper. He set down the plates he was holding and carefully reached into his pocket to take out the copy of the birth certificate. He gently opened it up and held it out to Steve. "My son…I just…" Tears sprang to his eyes suddenly, unexpectedly. He reached out and brushed his finger against the baby's name. "How could I not know? There should have been some sort of mental link or something that connected us. Isn't that what it's supposed to be like? Being a parent?"
"Maybe he'll know why Connie never told you," Steve said as he handed the paper back to his friend. "She must have had her reasons."
Tears slowly rolled down Bucky's cheeks and he gasped to catch his breath. Steve leaned in and hugged him, letting him cry for a few minutes without speaking or passing judgement.
Bucky had calmed down by the time Johnny and Nick came back from the drugstore with a bag that contained the paternity test. Nick read the instructions as Johnny swabbed Bucky's cheek. "Now we'll get Grandpa Frank's sample and get it all out in the mail today," Nick said when they'd finished. "We'll find out in about a week. We'll call you then."
As they stood up to leave the church yard, Johnny turned around and looked carefully at Bucky. "But until then, you need to stay away from Cece," he said. "She's got her hopes up over this and if it's not a match and we're not related, she's gonna be upset. There's time to get to know you if it's a match, and if it's not…Then you're not gonna see her, or any of us again, you got it?"
Bucky put his hands up as if in surrender. "That's fair," he replied, hiding his surprise at Johnny's assertiveness. "I'll be right here, waiting to hear back from you."
"Looks to me you're in the right place," Johnny replied as he walked away. "You have some confessions to make."
Bucky nodded his head and sighed. His steps and thoughts were heavy as he climbed the church stairs to retreat inside its safe walls. He'd have to make those confessions soon. He just wasn't sure that if he started, he'd ever be able to stop.
(SCENE)
The next week passed agonizingly slowly for Bucky. The idea of a family had been dangled in front of him like a carrot on the stick and was now hanging up too far for him to catch, no matter how high he jumped. He spent much of his time in the garden, trying to expend all of his energy planting flowers and vegetables. It felt good to know he was helping to provide beauty and nourishment to those around him. Giving back to the world, instead of helping in its destruction was a new feeling for him, and he liked it.
One sunny afternoon, Bucky was standing up from where he'd been planting carrots, and was brushing his knees off when the gate opened and a man walked inside. Bucky whipped around to see who was walking in on him, his heart pounding. Being surprised still set him on edge. He took a deep breath, though, when he saw that it was an older gentleman, and one who didn't appear to be terribly threatening, either.
The older man saw Bucky and smiled. "Good afternoon," he called out. "Lovely day, isn't it?"
"It is," Bucky replied. "Are you here on church business?"
The man walked over to Bucky and looked carefully into his face for a moment before responding. "No," he said. "I'm here to speak to you."
Bucky looked at the older man, a handsome, distinguished silver-haired man, and saw his own eyes looking back at him. His heart began to pound again. "Frank?" He asked in a whisper.
"You're James Buchanan Barnes, aren't you?" the man replied.
Bucky nodded, unable to speak.
"The test results came in the mail today," Frank explained. "I'm your son." He took a step towards Bucky.
Bucky started to cry and held his arms out as Frank stepped into them, hugging him hard. Bucky thought about all the time he'd lost with his son. All the moments in life when a father should be there for his son. First words, first steps, first school dance, first broken heart. He wondered if it had been very painful for Frank to grow up without a father, and hated that he had caused him that pain. "I would have been there for you," he cried. "I would have married your mother, we would have been a family. I never knew, I swear I never knew."
Frank drew back and looked into Bucky's eyes. "You have no idea how much it means to me to hear that," he started. "I've spent the last week reading up on you and the war. It's not your fault. My mother said she chose not to tell you because the war was too much and this was what she could do to help the war effort. Not putting more on the boys in the front than was necessary was her way of helping. I've always thought it was misguided of her, but it was too late to change anything by the time I was old enough to understand."
Frank sighed and looked down at the ground for a moment before looking up again at his father. "I have another theory, though. One I never got to ask her about before she died. I think she was afraid to get her hopes up. For her, it was easier to cut you out of her life entirely than it was to hope and wait and wonder what would happen after the war. Would you make it out alive? Would you even want to be with her when you came back? Would you accept being a father? Just too many ways and chances for it not to work out, and I don't think she wanted the disappointment. So, she just did it all on her own. She once told me she only listed you on the birth certificate because the state would have taken me away from her if she hadn't."
Bucky closed his eyes and took all of his son's words in. Connie had been sadly right. He hadn't made it through the war, after all. He only would have disappointed her if she'd tried to tell him about her pregnancy. "Was she happy? Were you happy? Did you have a good life?" he asked, his voice hoarse.
Frank smiled. "So happy," he replied. "She met and married a man when I was seven and he was a wonderful father to me. She had two more children with him and was very happy with her life. She's been gone about twenty years now, from cancer. It was less treatable back then. But, she loved her life. And I have loved my life. I won't lie, I did have moments growing up when I was angry at you for not being there, but you're here now…"
"I…I don't really know how to be a father," Bucky replied, feeling at a loss.
"It's ok, I can teach you," Frank said with a small smile.
Bucky looked at his son and for the first time, Frank's advanced age truly registered with him. His son was an old man now. His whole life had been kept from Bucky. First by Connie, and then by Zola. It was just another thing Zola had taken from Bucky. How much more time would he have with Frank? Could he ever truly make up for all that lost time?
"And you're not just a father," Frank added, "You're a grandfather and a great grandfather as well…You have more time to learn how to be those things."
Bucky suddenly felt lightheaded as he took in all of this. How was he going to handle all of this? Going from no family to a giant family in the course of a couple weeks was very overwhelming. "Does your family know yet?"
"Not yet," Frank said. "I'll make some calls tonight and by morning the entire family will know. Expect a few visitors over the next several days."
Frank stayed for a couple hours as he and Bucky slowly got to know one another. Eventually it grew too hot outside and they retreated into the church to cool off. They sat at the kitchen table, eating biscotti and sipping lemonade. Frank told him all about his life and Bucky savored every second of it.
At one point in time, Steve and Sam walked into the room and stopped when they saw the men at the table. Bucky looked up at them and smiled. "It's a boy," he said in explanation.
Steve smiled in return and walked over to the table. "So, you're Bucky's son," he said as he held out his hand out to shake the older man's. "I see the resemblance."
"Captain America…" Frank said wondrously.
"Please, call me Steve," he replied, "And this is our friend Sam."
"Pleased to meet you," Sam said, holding out his hand and shaking Frank's.
Sam and Steve stayed for a few minutes before excusing themselves to leave the father and son to continue getting to know one another better.
Bucky relished every second of Frank's visit. He experienced a moment of panic when Frank stood up to leave. "Are you sure you should go on your own? It's getting dark out…" he said, feeling an overwhelming sense of concern.
Frank smiled. "I've lived in this city my whole life, you don't need to worry about me," he assured his father. "But I appreciate your concern." He chuckled, "I think your paternal instincts are starting to kick in. They can be overwhelming at first…"
Bucky walked him to the door. "I'm so glad the test was a match," he said before hugging his son.
"So am I," Frank said. "Prepare yourself for the deluge of family…"
"I look forward to it," Bucky replied. He watched Frank walk down the stairs and off down the street. When he could no longer see him, he shut the door behind him. He felt nervous to see Frank walking away by himself in the dark and had to hold himself back from running after him. Was this really what paternal instincts were like?
Sister Mary Helen was in the kitchen waiting for him when he returned. "So, you're a father…" she said in greeting.
Bucky grinned and walked over to her. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and kissed her cheek. "I am," he replied. "I'm still trying to take it all in!"
"Well, I am very glad it's worked out so nicely," she said.
"Me too." He sat down at the kitchen table and was quickly lost in his thoughts. He was a father, and apparently had been for most of his life, but he'd never known it. He had a large family who wanted to meet him. Maybe they would even want him to be a part of their lives. Did he have the strength to get past his issues to embrace his family? How could he ever tell them about his problems and his life as the Winter Soldier?
Sister Mary Helen reached down and squeezed his shoulder. "Do not fret, my son," she said as she let go and walked towards the door. "All your questions will be answered in time…"
She always seemed to know…
(SCENE)
Bucky slept restlessly that night, but had no more triggered episodes, much to his relief. Steve and Sam had come over to the church that morning for breakfast with the sisters. They were all sitting around the kitchen table, feasting on waffles and bacon, when there was a knock on the back door.
Steve frowned and stood up. "I'll get it," he offered while walking to the door. "Hello?" he asked as he looked out at whoever was outside on the porch. He was quiet for a moment before turning to look at the group in the kitchen. "Bucky, it's for you," he said with a grin as he stepped away from the door.
With that, five people barged into the kitchen. "James!" Cece, the only woman in the group that Bucky recognized, called out. She rushed over to him and threw her arms around his shoulders. "We came as soon as we found out!" She hugged him tightly and whispered into his ear, "I'm so glad this all worked out."
"Me too," he said as he returned the hug.
The only other person in the crowd that Bucky recognized, was Johnny, the overly protective cousin. He walked over to Bucky, grabbed his good hand, and gently pulled him to his feet. Cece let go as Johnny shook Bucky's hand. "Welcome to the family," he said before pulling him into a hug.
After a moment, the other people pushed in for their turn to introduce themselves. "I'm Veronica," a young woman said as she hugged Bucky. "I'm one of your great grandkids." She turned and pointed to the other two people who had come with them. "And this is my sister Sylvia, and our brother Alonzo."
Bucky shook everybody's hand and graciously accepted their hugs. When they had finished, he introduced Steve and Sam to them.
"Hello, Veronica," Sam greeted the younger woman as suavely as possible. He took her hand in his and raised it to his lips to kiss it. "I am James's close, personal friend, only I'm from now, so I'm not nearly as old as he is…"
Veronica smiled and batted her eyes. "Well, I suppose that means that we'll be seeing a lot of each other now," she replied.
"I certainly hope so," Sam said. He glanced over at Bucky, only to see his friend glaring at him. Bucky shook his head slowly. Sam let go of Veronica's hand and walked over to Bucky. "So, is it ok if I date your great granddaughter?" he asked casually.
"Absolutely not," Bucky replied quietly. "Don't even think about it."
Sam sighed sadly. "Ah well, I figured as much," he replied with a shrug. "How about Steve, can he date one of your great granddaughters?"
"Nope," Bucky replied, turning his glare on Steve, who was currently talking to Sylvia.
Johnny walked over to Bucky. "So…I was wondering…What should we call you?" he asked.
"How about Great Grandpapa Bucky?" Sam suggested. "I think it suits him."
Johnny began to laugh. "I like that," he chuckled.
"Well, I don't," Bucky replied. "I think 'Bucky' or James will be just fine." Cece and her family had taken seats around the kitchen table and were now speaking with the nuns. He walked to the cupboard and began to take out plates. "Does anybody want a waffle?" he called out. Everybody raised their hand, so he began to make another round of breakfast for his family and friends.
As steam rose from the waffle maker, Bucky listened to the laughter and loud talking behind him. He glanced out the window and noticed the first signs of green leaves starting to come up from the garden that he'd planted a few weeks previously. He smiled.
