"I want help," Bucky said. He had approached her after the mission was over before he was going back to Wakanda.
Wanda looked up at him. The Winter Soldier had dark circles under his eyes, turned-down corners on his mouth and an even more wild tangle to his hair than when she'd first met him. He was standing defensively like he thought she might try to tackle him. Bucky always looked out of place, but he looked more so than ever standing outside a small pizza shop in the city of Las Vegas.
"What can I help you with?" Wanda said. She took a bite of her pizza, eyebrows raised.
"My memories." Bucky sat down across from Wanda in a way that made her think he was afraid of breaking the chair beneath him.
Wanda frowned. "You don't have all of those back?"
Bucky shook his head, eyes not meeting hers.
Wanda set down the pizza slice, leaning forward and lacing her fingers together. She wondered if this was why Bucky had felt strangely distant during the whole mission. "If you know that something is missing, there must be a little something that reminds you of it. Yes?"
Nod.
She hesitated. "What reminded you?"
"Grace." Bucky's already husky voice broke on the word.
"You said that when you first woke up," Wanda said slowly.
"A person. A girl. I barely remember her," he said. "I don't know who she was, but she won't leave me alone."
"You've seen her? Or just memories of her?" Wanda asked.
"Memories," Bucky said. "But not enough to know anything." He looked nervous, running his fingers along his metal arm.
"Are you trying to find her again?"
"No," Bucky said, a little too quickly.
One second.
Two.
"Maybe," he admitted. "I don't know... I don't know if she's still alive."
"This will be difficult," Wanda said. "But I'll try to do what I can, yes?" She reached out, pressing her fingertips to Bucky's forehead. He closed his eyes, exhaling softly.
Wanda winced. Bucky's memories were painful. That didn't just mean that Bucky had led a difficult life; his memories had been altered so often that they hurt Wanda to try to sift through.
Grace. She could only find fragments of any sort of little girl. Whoever she had been, Hydra had been very careful with keeping Bucky from recalling her. But even Hydra can't control people's dreams.
Wanda delved deeper into Bucky's dreams. They were in black and white, and all the words were Russian. That was strange. Wanda wove together strands of different dreams, trying to construct something more concrete that she could use to cross-reference with other memories and dreams. It was tedious and painful, but all happened in only a few seconds for Bucky.
She pulled back her fingers.
"There isn't much," she admitted. "Your mind is very..."
"Broken," Bucky said, voice hoarse.
Wanda nodded. There was no way to sugarcoat that fact.
"But I put a little together," Wanda said. "I saw something about a town called Storybrooke, and a place that you call the Enchanted Forest. You talk about mushrooms and a top hat, and even Wonderland. Code names, maybe, from a particular mission where you met her?"
Bucky's eyes stayed on the table, hair falling in front of his face. He was breathing shallowly. Wanda didn't know if he was processing this information or recovering from her manipulation of his mind.
"Storybrooke. Where do I find Storybrooke?" he asked.
"She may not be there anymore," Wanda said. "You are... very old. She could be grown up."
"She could be dead," Bucky said flatly. "Where is Storybrooke?"
Wanda hesitated.
"You're going to visit it, aren't you?"
Bucky nodded.
"Then you will find Steve and I will find a car," Wanda said. "We'll go to Maine before you go back to Wakanda."
Wanda didn't know why she wanted to help Bucky. He certainly hadn't asked for anything except information. But what else would she do? And even though they were nothing alike, something about Bucky reminded Wanda of Pietro.
"Thank you." Bucky got up, his expression not changing so much as a flicker before he walked out into the streets of Las Vegas.
It must be something very small, Wanda thought to herself.
