Hey guys, this may look familiar but I re-edited this piece from last year and have begun writing more on it! Please let me know what you think! And for those that haven't read this before, this is a Bucky/OC story that follows Bucky and Rooney through 1943 to 2014 in an unspecific order. Please let me know what you think.

the gardener & the soldier

2014
Smithsonian, Washington D.C.

Bucky stood there, confused, discoursed, and on the verge of tipping. He stared at himself, immortalized in a photograph from 1940. He couldn't comprehend what was happening to his mind, seeing this only confused him more. He read the first short paragraphs about a childhood and adolescence he knew nothing of and felt pangs of memory develop inside him like deja vu. The memories were flashes but they weren't nothing. The memories were real.

The last paragraph presented was a short bit of information on a woman named Rooney Kessler. She was reported to have been close to James Barnes around the time of his "death" in 1943. She arrived at the US camp base when Captain America saved Bucky and his unit. Not much was known about her, other than the films shot during the destruction of Hydra operations. She went MIA shortly after Bucky's death.

Next to the text was a small screen playing select footage of Rooney Kessler interacting with Bucky and Captain America. The image of the woman sparked something in Bucky mind, a painful memory of darkness and a female screaming, a man screaming with her, screams of pain, and horribly broken fingers. And her face, crying.

Bucky clutched his head, his breathing becoming ragged. He began walking out of the museum as quickly as he could without being noticed but he couldn't stop the overflow of striking images of the woman and Captain America.

Once Bucky reached an alley he threw himself against a wall and let out a haggard groan and clutched at his head with such force he knocked his hat onto the ground and pulled at his hair. Bucky tried to calm his breathing and sat crouched next to the building for several minutes. When he finally had a hold on what just happened to him, he could not rest. He had to know, he had to keep figuring things out. And he was going to start with the woman.

An hour later Bucky stumbled into a library and sat at a computer. He'd seen the machines used before, and being equipped with the basic knowledge of the times he was engrained by Hydra, he knew he'd find something.

Slowly he plucked at the keys R-o-o-n-e-y K-e-s-s-l-e-r. And what showed up was hardly anything of use. But a sudden article caught his attention at the bottom of the page.

"Rumored Sole Female of Captain America's Howling Commandos May Still Be Out There" Bucky clicked on it faster than he had time to process.

The article spoke of sightings in New York City, just sightings, no photographs. But then it began explaining various theories of where exactly Rooney Kessler could have gone after her disappearance in 1943. And these theories were supported by photographs. In 1950, Rooney was spotted in England at the first international Stark Expo, and just three years later she's spotted in Washington DC at a ten year anniversary memorial for Captain America. And at least ten other sightings, leading up into 1995, all the photos looking like they were capturing a woman at the age of 25. The photos were not vivid, but he could see she had long brown hair and it was all Bucky had to go on.

The ending theory is that Rooney Kessler is still alive, un-aged, and living in New York City. Then New York City was where he would start.

Before Bucky left the library he quickly searched for himself on the computer. And found a wikipedia page. Suddenly becoming too overwhelmed by this Bucky closed the window. But not before noticing that James Barnes' childhood home was located just outside NYC. He had no other way about it. If he found Rooney Kessler he'd have to remember. She could help him remember. It was his only hope.

Several days later Bucky was floating around small towns outside of NYC. So far nothing. Surviving became a problem. He hadn't eaten in days and he was beginning to feel the strain of running on nothing but perseverance.

In Roslyn, NY after four days of searching and asking he was finally given an answer by a grocer who talked about a quiet woman who lived just out of city limits with long brown hair. Bucky didn't know how to thank the man.

Bucky found the house easily. It was a small home, half of it encompassed by a green house, smokey glass in place of walls and ceiling. If this hadn't been the only home he'd seen in ten miles he would have dismissed it. Slowly he crept to the back and easily broke the lock to the back door and quickly slipped inside the glass plated home. There were plants everywhere. Handing from the ceiling, on shelves against the wall; the air was noticeably richer, breathable. Bucky felt himself intake a large breath.

Following the walls Bucky looked at everything he could see, anything that would give him information about Rooney. He passed a mattress on the floor with rustled bright white sheets and pillows, he found it odd there was a bed in this green house-did she sleep here?

Bucky approached an open entrance into the kitchen but a desk off in the corner caught his eye. Upon the desk he saw an open laptop but the screen was black. A nearly empty metal enamel cup with a tea bag hanging off the side sat next to the computer. He touched the rim of the mug and felt its warmth. Rooney, or someone else, must have been in that very spot recently. Bucky breathed in.

Sitting up on the desk against the wall was a bulletin board with various papers pinned around, hand-drawn illustrations of plants, layers of papers and photographs of a brunette woman with various people whom he did not recognize. They were old photographs, not new digital prints, card-stock. Bucky touched the edge of one, feeling its width, something about it recalled a familiarity within him. He peeked behind a few papers not really noticing much. But in the corner of the board Bucky froze.

There was a photo of him. His eyes widened and he was afraid to look away. It was him, the same photograph he'd seen projected at the museum. This woman owned the real photo. And just peeking out from under a piece of paper right above it was another photo with similar coloring along the edge. Bucky pushed the paper away and saw a photograph of him, and the woman. Bucky's arm was around her shoulders and he was looking at the camera while she was looking down, she seemed shy, but she was smiling. So was he.

Bucky picked the photo from the board and slid it into his jacket pocket quickly. And with the same quickness Bucky turned around and was met with a pistol aimed at his forehead.

For a moment Bucky felt his heart rate raise. But just for a moment before his guard kicked in, quickly observing his attacker. A woman, small, her hair hidden under a tan Stetson hat and her mouth and nose hidden under a scarf-a tuft of hair poked out beneath the scarf and it was brown. This was her. It had to be.

"What are you doing in my house?" She said, her voice muffled but strong, and it gave Bucky chills of reminiscence. He was so caught up in her eyes, his mind trying to pull memories from a deep place, that he didn't answer her question. "Hey! Answer me. What are doing in my house?"

Bucky didn't have an answer. The woman pulled the hammer back on her gun and Bucky's instinct triggered and he grabbed her hand, knocking the gun from her hold, and spun her around.

But the woman quickly jumped through his hold, grabbing his hands and twisting them behind his back. Suddenly though she let go, stepping back with a gasp. Bucky turned and grabbed a chunk of her hair and flung her onto the ground, and climbed over her.

For a moment the two froze, the woman's hat falling from her head and her hair spilled out on the ground. She looked at his left arm with curiosity and quickly brought her elbow up and rammed it into his cheek. Bucky fell to the side, just enough for the woman to slip out from under him.

She grabbed her gun and shot at him but Bucky dodged it and repeated the same act of grabbing her hand but rougher and the woman let out a cry and dropped it faster than she had the previous time. Bucky grabbed her coat by the lapels and brought her closer to him.

"You know me."

The woman froze and looked confused for a moment before struggling against his hold. She began wiggling and kicking at Bucky's feet with such strength he accidentally lost his balance and they both fell onto the bed, Bucky on top of her.

"Let go of me!" She yelled but Bucky pushed himself harder onto her.

"No! You know me!" He yelled back in her face and she stopped. Her eyes on his and they widened. She brought her hand up gently and removed Bucky's ball cap. His hair fell into his eyes but she still saw. Her eyes began to water.

"Bucky?"

The woman touched his face with her finger tips and Bucky felt the coldness of them. He quickly stood and she watched him.

"How are you here?"

"I…don't know." Bucky paused. "I don't remember anything."

The woman stood from the bed, watching him cautiously. "How did you find me?"

"The Smithsonian." The woman nodded, her eyes on his arm. Bucky noticed her hands shaking at her sides.

"Do you know my name?" Bucky looked at her as she began fiddling with things on her desk.

"Rooney." She froze suddenly and looked at him. His eyes narrowed.

"It's been so long since I've heard you say my name." Her eyes closed and she leaned against the edge of the desk. "Do you go by Bucky anymore?"

"I didn't know that was my name until last week."

"How did you find out?" Bucky inhaled, he should be irritated by all these questions but he wanted to her know, he felt like she needed to know everything, he just didn't know how to say it.

With disdain in his voice he said, "Captain America."

Rooney narrowed her eyes herself, she wanted to ask what happened, but she already knew.

"What was your name before?"

Bucky sat on the bed, "They called me the Winter Soldier."

Rooney nodded. Bucky knew she knew. It was almost as if she asked just for reassurance. "Is that what you call yourself?"

Bucky shook his head, "I don't call myself anything."

Rooney was quiet for a really long time. Bucky's patience thinned.

"You don't remember anything, do you?" He just shook his head slightly. "Well you picked the right person from your past to approach. Anyone else would have called the police the second they saw you and…I'm guessing you're the one that's been on the news. Everyone is looking for you, everyone important that is."

"Hydra." Bucky noticed Rooney suck in a breath and looked at him. "What is it?"

Rooney shook her head. "You're safe here. Hydra does not know this place exists."

"Are you positive?"

"Yes." She responded quickly. "So what do you remember?" She sat on the bed next to him, but not too close, Bucky noticed. She was still nervous around him, cautious, rigid, ready to fight. This confused him slightly, he was a predator to her but it seemed to go deeper than that. Her caution was not rooted in fear.

"I only remember bits. I saw you in films at the museum. Your face…I remembered so many awful things. But I knew I had to find you. I had to know how I knew you…in my past."

Rooney nodded and bit her lip. She was refraining from saying something, thinking about it. She breathed out and ran her hands through her hair.

"How far into the present to you remember?" Bucky looked confused, "Do you remember when you woke up?"

He thought for a moment, he'd never thought of that before. "No, I don't."

"I didn't think so." Rooney muttered. "I'll tell you what happened but I want you to listen to something first."

Bucky followed her into the house, into a living room where Rooney plucked a record from the shelf and placed it on a record player.

"I hope this doesn't bring back anything lethal." She joked quietly and cleared her throat. "This song is from 1939." The needle was set down slowly. A gentle guitar begins and then a soothing, deep male voice sings.

"If I didn't care more than words can say, If I didn't care would I feel this way? If this isn't love then why do I thrill?"

Bucky breathed in and closed his eyes, clinching his mouth and eyes. He saw her, Rooney, on a table. A man placed machinery around her head and she began to scream.

Bucky pulled his hair and quickly looked up at Rooney. She was looking at him.

"What happened to you?" He asked her.

"The same thing that began you."