Oddball: Oh hon I am so late in wishing you. HAPPY VALENTINES WEEK XD. Lame I know. Well there is more to Mistress B's guilt than just the incident you will find out more later, but not in this chapter ;). Yes Charlie will be making an apperance, but not yet either, please be patient with me :3.
Jo: YO DEADPOOL WAS FUCKING AWESOME. I did have a few suggestions but I heard that their budget was cut last minute so it made sense why it was a little speedy at times, but other than that I loved it.
Supesfan: Aww thanks, well they will be coming in soon, hopefully the next chapter ;).
shanishinx: Oh wow, thank you so much. Your review seriously made my day and I was having a pretty lousy one so thank you so much for your kindness. Yes the whole Jo thing I hadn't disguised that much because its supposed to be obvious. BUT more surprises will be heading your way. Aww I am so glad you loved the story, Captain America is a particular weakness on me, but then I figured might as well write a bucky fanfic. Well I try to update once a week but it might get harder to do with my fulltime job, but my aim is to complete this story before Civil War so here is hoping.
Thanks for all the reviews, I love this chapter by the way for several reasons. Okay tc
xx
SSC
"You are over my head, I'm outta my mind. Thinking I was born in the wrong time. One of a kind, living in a world gone plastic. Baby, you are so classic."
Bucky sank into his seat while aiming exasperated looks at the singing woman beside him. It was amusing at first, but that was three hours ago. He was tired, hungry and she was completely off key.
However, watching her have the time of her life, popping her shoulders and body while dancing away to some random beat on the radio, did fascinate him a little. He just wished she would stop inducing a heart attack every time she took her hands off the steering wheel to raise them into the air.
The sun had set into the mountains behind them. The night was shrouded in darkness and headlights was their only illumination down the winding asphalt.
"Are you going to be singing the entire way there?" He decided to voice his frustrations. She paused in her serenade and reached out to lower the volume before looking to him, extremely appalled.
"What? You don't like my singing?" She demanded.
"No, I voiced my displeasure just to confuse you." He grumbled mordantly with a dramatic roll of his eyes. Jo deadpanned and then directed her attention back to the highway they were on.
"I see the sarcasm still stuck around through the years." She muttered, mimicking his frustrated tone.
"You used to love my singing." She abruptly announced.
"Really?" He asked, surprised by the fact.
"Yah, you said I had the voice of an angel." She insisted sheepishly. Bucky scoffed and couldn't bite back the smirk that curled up the corner of his mouth.
"Call bullshit on that." He retorted confidently.
She uttered no verbal response, but from the mildly annoyed pursuing of her lips, Bucky knew he had been right in detecting her vague lie.
He wanted to say something more; her reactions made him itch to tease her. He would have too if a familiar tune emitting from the speakers hadn't caught his attention.
It was like a siren call, beckoning a distant memory kept bay by years of memories. The song title was at the tip of his tongue and the moment the words of the song resounded, his heart began to pound erratically.
Jo reached out and he jumped at the thought of her trying to mute the song, he quickly stilled her hand with his.
"Wait, I know this song." He announced suddenly.
"Sure, you don't know who I am but you know Bryan Adams." She grumbled teasingly while increasing the volume.
There was only you and me.
We were young and wild and free.
"Well I'll admit the guy is pretty unforgettable," She added with a fond smile as the melody filled the small space.
"No, this song." Bucky breathed admiring the soft, adoring look in her eyes as she stared a head as they drove on.
"You love this song." He was amazed by his own declaration, let alone the complete surety it held. She didn't react instantly like he expected to at his own startling realization. She was grinning dazzlingly and a laugh like a sigh escaped her lips.
"Yeah but don't tell anyone, it's not good for my rep—" She froze, insight had caught up to her.
"Wait a minute." She breathed in mystification and glanced at him in shock. She held his stunned stare for a brief few seconds before looking to the road again.
"Interesting, your memories of me are stimulated by music." She mused thoughtfully to herself.
"I wonder..."
He was intrigued by the plotting look in her eyes.
"Wonder what?" He asked, shifting curiously in his seat, waiting for a plan, something to stimulate his memories again. She slanted him a reckless grin that impacted him more than he cared to admit.
"Listen handsome, I listened to a lot of music when we were together," She said. "So I am thinking if this song was enough to remind you of me…"
"The same method would work with other types of music."He cut in slowly finding truth and hope in her idea. Her smile widened and there was a gleeful twinkle in her dark eyes.
"It's worth a shot right?"
He held her hopeful gaze. It wasn't exactly the idea he had when it came to regaining his memories, but tracing back his steps hadn't worked, maybe what was needed was something deeper, an emotional trigger.
Joanna continued to amaze Bucky. The woman had secrets stashed in every corner of the country they drove to. She parked outside a seemingly normal motel room with a large pink- neon sign that reads EASY STAY. The building faced the main road along with all the room doors. Bucky waited in the car for Jo to return with a key from the manager, the moment she did, he jumped out of the vehicle and picked up his back pack.
They found residence in room 42. He stared at the sign for a long while, wondering why it carried such a heavy symbolism to him. When he entered the room Jo wasn't in sight. He felt a pang of discomfort at first until she emerged from the bathroom to the left, with a parcel wrapped in clear plastic.
She dropped the package onto the breakfast table, pulled out her pocket knife and began to cut into it. He was anxious at first and itched to hold a weapon in case she proved to be against him after all, but curiosity kept his gaze pinned on the mysterious package.
Within a cardboard box was what looked to be a silver-blue iPod, a charger, and small, black leather, phone book. She laid them out in a scramble before picking up the white charger and plugging the device into the nearest outlet.
Bucky was surprised she didn't say much or give an explanation for all the strange objects she had stashed in random places on their journey. He didn't want to ask either and risk seeming too nosey. He decided to deal with it, as long as she didn't threaten his life, Bucky was comfortable, but that didn't mean he trusted her.
When they slept on separate beds that night, he knew to keep a knife tucked under his pillow and not fall asleep till she did. Hydra agents were trained with the ability to infiltrate any social group. They could be your best friend one moment and then stab you in the back without any remorse.
Bucky knew this, he had trained these people to be lethal killing machines, he knew he was wise to be wary.
Bucky couldn't sleep the entire night. Joanna was snoring away lying flat on her stomach with her arms hugging swans-down pillow and her legs at an awkward angle. He was envious of her ability to hit the mattress and immediately fall asleep. He wished it was that easy for him.
The nightmares plagued him, terrifying him to the point where sleep was no longer a luxury but something he dreaded. He lay on his bed for the whole night, staring up at the ceiling and allowing his thoughts to wonder. When the morning sun began to the fill the room, he got up, dressed and headed out to get breakfast.
When Bucky returned with a white paper bag full of bagels, Jo was already awake and toying with her iPod while sitting at the table. She nodded her head in acknowledgment when he joined her at the dining area. She practically pounced at the sight of the bagel and attempted to shove an entire one into her mouth.
"Alright, this is my playlist." She explained plugging the green tipped aux cable to the music player and then connecting it to a mini, cube-shaped speaker. Bucky knew she had purchased it sometime during their travels. She was an odd female, not comfortable in silences and always needed some form of music filling whatever space she occupied.
"Hydra secure files, be damned." She rambled on while running her thumb over the control keys. "There is no way in hell I would ever not make a backup, of a backup of my music."
Bucky smirked, the woman had strange priorities. A soft melodic tune began to play. She increased the volume, placed the iPod on the surface of the table and then aimed the speaker at him.
"So I am just going to set this on a play. If anything jogs your memory let me know." She announced and then stood up from her chair, Bucky was jolted into attention.
"Are you going somewhere?" He demanded, glaring up at her. Her dark brows lifted in intrigue and a playful smile curved along her full lips. She pinned her hands down on the wooden surface while holding his steady gaze.
"Do you want me to leave?" She asked teasingly.
He frowned and shook his head in a 'no' while trying to remain indifferent. She beamed down at him and stretched up to her full height.
"Great." She responded and pulled out her phone from her side pocket. "I am going to catch up on my correspondence."
He watched her walk towards the open kitchen, his keen eye lingered on her shapely behind longer than it was deemed appropriate. He didn't know why he caught himself looking at her in such a hungry, intense manner, it as if his own body couldn't help itself. He pushed aside the thought of contemplating the strangeness of it all and focused his attention on the task at hand, maybe her idea would work.
Joanna strolled along the length of the L-shaped kitchen counter with her burner phone pressed to her ear. It took three consecutive rings before a voice was finally heard in answer.
"Hey, Jude." Joanna beamed in greeting.
"Oh fuck."The woman on the other end of the line cursed. Jo's wicked grinned lengthened as she stopped pacing by the sink.
"Well, that's a nice way to greet a gal who just got out of prison." Jo uttered in a winning, sarcastic tone.
"How the fuck did you escape from Hydra?" Jude hissed.
"I had help." Jo responded chancing a glance at the mercenary that sat hunched over the kitchen table.
"Speaking of, I need a favour." Jo added leaning back into the edge of the marble counter.
"Hell no." The woman bit back venomously. "Last time you asked for my help I was left stranded in the middle of northern Russia. I nearly got frostbite on my ass because of you."
"Bet it gave that whole 'buns of steel' you were hoping for." Jo sniggered.
"I am hanging up." Jude uttered bluntly.
"Hey, Jude. Don't make it bad." Jo chimed to a melody, grinning at her own play on words. All jokes aside Joanna was in desperate need for Jude's help. The woman was one of the weapons specialists at Hydra. Jo was known for spending most of her time with the lab geeks at Hydra, she had found them more tolerable than the rest.
"I really need your help…" She confessed reluctantly, her smile softening to a frown.
"I have him."
"Have who?" Jude demanded with that same edge in her tone.
"Winters," Jo answered hesitantly.
"Christ—" Joanna could practically picture the pale, small face of the woman.
"He needs my help, now more than ever—" Jo added quickly before Jude could reject her request.
"I am not doing this with you." Jude cut in sternly.
Joanna glowered at the white wall in front of her. A dark look of annoyance took over her obsidian eyes.
"You owe me." She reminded careful to keep her voice low but threatening. "Don't forget who got you out of Hydra, you would be swallowing your own teeth if it wasn't for me."
Jude fell silent and Joanna took deep breaths to calm her rising temper. She didn't mean to sound so incensed, but Jude's attitude in the whole situation wasn't helping especially when Joanna had saved her life.
"Just this once, Jude," She begged." I won't bother you again, I swear."
There was a pregnant silence from the other end of the line. Joanna was ninety percent certain that Jude could be relied on, but she also knew that trouble had a tendency to follow Joanna like a plague.
"What do you need?"
Joanna perked up, grinning wide as a wave of relief flooded her system.
"Toys, lots of toys." She said. "And Jack, I need Jack."
"At least, he will be happy to see you." Jude grumbled lastly before ending the call. Jo stood still surprised by the sudden shutdown but at the same time, she wasn't all that shocked by it. Jude was the type of girl that held grudges. Jo had left someone behind that night she saved their lives. Even though Joanna knew Jude didn't blame her entirely, she still wished she could have done more.
A heavy sigh escaped Joanna's lips as she tucked her phone back into the back pocket of her jeans. She turned back around and approached the soldier at the table. He was hunched over, elbows posed at the surface of the desk and his fingers buried into his lowered head. Concerned by his fatigued body language, she reached him and gently grazed her finger tips over the beginning curve where his alloy arm met his shoulder.
"You alright there, Winters?" She asked cautiously. Her heart tightened from how familiar the action was. Her mind was transported back to several mornings she woke up and found him sitting in a chair or the edge of the bed, lost in his thoughts. She pushed back the memory, determined not to dwell on the past for long and focused her attention on him.
He looked up and the deep despair in his eyes made her insides melt in adoring pity.
"Nothing is working." He sighed woefully.
"Really?" she asked tearing her gaze away from him and to the iPod in his hands. "How many songs has it be—"
"Fifteen." He cut in bluntly.
"Wow." She bit the inside of her cheek, determined not to laugh at his child-like frustration. She took a seat on the chair opposite him.
"Like any of it?" She asked teasingly. He flashed a look of annoyance that could cut through a block of ice. She rolled her eyes, quite accustomed to his glowering stares.
"Alright, chill." She grumbled, fiddling with the volume button on the speaker set. "You'd think my upbeat collection of tunes would lighten you up a little."
"I think I've chilled enough." He countered in that same peevish tone, earning a look of wonder from the woman sitting across him.
"Sarcasm, good." She mused her eyes glimmering. "Feel better?"
"No." He grumbled.
"Maybe if you punched something. That usually helps me, oh and apple-pie."
"I don't want any."
"Milk then." She abruptly stood up, surprising him. He watched her return to the kitchen; picked up a tall, empty glass. She ran the object under the water, giving it a thorough clean. Bucky noticed there was a copper kettle on the stove. She turned the knob and dispersed the fire before pouring from the pot into the tall glass. Bucky watched the thick white liquid that filled the glass cylinder. He was surprised that it was milk and his mouth salivated at the sight of it.
She brought over the crystal by holding it by the brim.
"Here," She said, placing the glass beside his metal arm. "Warm just how you like it."
He stared at the glass, eyeing it unsurely. Seeing his hesitation she rolled her eyes and took a heavy gulp to prove to him she hadn't drugged it in any way. He was satisfied by the display and gathered the glass into his deft hand and brought the brim to his lips.
"Thanks," He muttered before taking a long swing.
Joanna watched him keenly, a little mesmerized by the bobbing of his Adam's apple at each desperate gulp. She felt a sense of peace, having him within reach. She continued to not be overwhelmed by the thought of the countless mornings they had shared.
"I never really understood your fascination with plain milk." She spoke to fill the silence. "You didn't even want to put chocolate syrup into it. You are like a cat."
He cracked a smile while returning the glass back to the table.
"You said that last time," He said surprising her.
"Did I?" She asked.
"Yeah." He uttered still smiling, but then his expression immediately angled in shock, realizing that he was having a memory of some sort. Joanna felt silent and waited, anticipating his next words. His crystal blue eyes were shivering as he stared into space between them; his lips were parted in awe as images began to flash in his mind.
"We were at that hotel." He began to narrate. The mental projections were a little blurred but the more his focused the clearer they were. He was walking across gleaming white tiles, the path led him to a bedroom. There was a large king-sized bed with egg shell white sheets and beige throw pillows. The head post was tall and made of a rich, dark-brown mahogany. The bed was pushed to the right side of the room and took up the center. Across from him was a large window, framed by curtains that matched the pillows. It was a view of a cityscape he instantly recognized to be Iran.
His attention was grabbed by the strange, giant, burned to a black crisp like a tree in the center of the room. He eyed it disapprovingly.
"It had that weird tree ornament." He observed out loud, feeling a sense of discomfort wash over him.
"Tree ornament?" He heard her echo softly.
"Yea," He confirmed. "It was black and had these twisted branches. I didn't like it so I covered it with a towel."
He could practically feel the warm, malleable white wool in his hands as he draped the material over the statue. There was a ringing in his ears that began to slowly turn into a melody, it was catchy, playful and extremely loud.
Up on Melancholy Hill, there is a plastic tree.
Are you here with me?
He realized that the song in his head was the one that emitted from the speakers, the trick was working, the music truly was stimulating his memories.
"This tune was playing." He said making a quick gesture at the electronic object.
"This song?" She responded, astonished.
"We were." His voice drawled to a bewildered silence, the scenery had dramatically changed and he was no longer standing at the foot of the bed but sitting and he wasn't alone.
Joanna was there, she looked the same but different somehow. The length of her hair and appearance was similar but her eyes, they held such an intense emotion in them that left him desperate for air. They were within extremely close proximities. She was straddling him, her fingers were in his hair, he felt the scraping of her finger nails against the scalp, it soothed him. Her full lips neared his and pressed to his mouth; the warmth flooded his system and sent a jolt of want straight to his groin.
He had knocked himself out of the memory from the shock of it all. He didn't realize how hard he was breathing until he had heard his own raspy exhales between his ears.
"Oh."
He glanced up, dazed. She was watching him, grinning wickedly.
"Well, I certainly remember that." She whispered leaning the weight of her arms onto the table, pinning him under her dancing, obsidian eyes.
"That was a wild night." She breathed huskily.
"We— we were together, once?" He struggled to ask, his face felt hot and his heart was still pounding.
"Once?" She scoffed humorously. She leaned back into her chair while observing him with a possessive gleam in her eyes.
"Cute," She whispered teasingly making his face feel warmer.
"Multiple times actually," She stated factually sending another wave of desire through him.
"But that was the one time I left the music playing really loud," She said referring to the particular memory he had been experiencing.
"Why was that?" He asked cautiously, leaning in with a new magnetic attraction. Her posture changed from confident to guarded, he was surprised by the unexpected shift in moods.
She crossed her arms over her chest defensively; she averted her gaze to the table.
"I was having one of my episodes," She said. Another flash of recollection floated into his subconscious at her triggering words. He saw in that same room, huddling in a corner by the window, the loud music blaring in the background. She seemed immune to the noise and had her face hidden in a rectangular pillow across her pulled up knees.
It was the very image of a woman trying desperately to find some form of calm. She looked like a child, lost, alone and afraid. Her body was trembling and his heart clenched with a sudden urge to draw her into his body and comfort her.
"You had your face buried in a pillow." He recalled as the image faded away before his eyes and there was only her passive expression.
"I was trying to block out the noise." She explained, a twinkle of mischief returning to her eyes.
"But your method was much more effective." She flirted flashing him a pearly white smile. "I stopped using the alternative after that."
"Alternative?" He echoed, confused.
"I haven't always had the smoothest ride with my…abilities." She began to say. "Over using them causes certain problems like migraines which are painful to the point of black outs, sometimes I hear this sharp drilling in my ears. It's hard to explain, it's like my head is about to explode. This doctor who was assigned to monitor my state of mind assured me that it wasn't anything that was taking a severe toll on my body."
"How did they confirm that?" He demanded, concerned by her alarming symptoms.
"By pushing me to the edge of course." She grinned through her pained expression. Bucky blinked, startled by the admission.
"It's not all bad," She said with a casual shrug, an attempt at easing him or trying to act like the experience didn't bother her as much as it actually did. "They did give me a solution but it turned out to be something that was helping them control me."
"They made you do things?" He asked alarmed by how relatable he found the story.
She abruptly looked up and their gaze met. A flash of deep sympathy took over her dark, endless orbs.
"No." She denied bluntly. "Everything I've ever done was my choice. Until I realized what I was doing was wrong. Then they were all like 'Whoop that's a little too much freedom for you there, Missy.'"
James Buchanan deduced in that instant that she was the type of person to try and make light out of every situation in order to avoid dealing with the problem. He found himself both exasperated and admiring of that particular characteristic. He was just glad he was finally getting her talking. The memory had eased a bit of the animosity between them, and the one he had stirred by shooting her in the woods.
She had gotten over it remarkably quickly; either that or she held a grudge.
"What made you see the errors?" He questioned, inquisitive about her past.
"Well—" She was cut off by a loud, ludicrously upbeat tone that resounded from her pants. She muttered a quick apology under her breath and fished out the cell phone before answering the call.
"Jacko, what's up brother?" she greeted amiably, already knowing who was on the other end. Bucky observed her quietly, studying her features carefully; being engaged in sexual acts more than once implied that they were lovers. Were they lovers? The idea didn't sound insane to him, sure he was shocked at first but his attraction to her made a lot of sense in that moment.
He finally had an explanation to why the crisp, floral scent of her hair did wonderfully strange things to his insides. He still carried lust for her, it was more evident now that he knew the truth and he couldn't stop admiring her pretty face. He eyed her mouth longer than deemed appropriate, she had such a full lower lip, easy to nibble and suck on. Her reckless grin was disarming, her dark eyes were enchanting and Bucky tried to remember what she looked beneath her clothes, naked in her beauty.
He shook his head and averted his gaze, face flushed and utterly ashamed of the dangerously wicked thoughts that consumed his mind. They were lovers in the past but that was one truth out of a million other things that could have happened. If she had really meant much to him he figured he would have remembered. Then again, he didn't remember his childhood friend till he was beating the man to a pulp.
"You are alive! I can't believe it." Jack exclaimed loudly, causing Joanna to flinch from the volume.
"Your faith in my abilities is truly flattering. " She mused, smiling at his enthusiasm.
"I am so glad Jo really, you've been gone for more than three years, people were looking for you."
She didn't doubt the validity in that; she had an inkling of whom was searching for her, someone hairy, wild and extremely lethal.
"As curious as I am to know who was looking for me, but we gotta keep this call short. I need to get to you." She stated in a businesslike manner.
"Of course, it's the same place coordinates as before, you remember right?—of course you remember, you never forget a thing."
"You guys haven't moved?" She gaped at the air, annoyance consuming her. "For fucks sake. I told you, idiots, to keep on the road. You know you are not safe."
Her lecturing had grabbed the Winter Soldier's attention. He peered at her with furrowed brows and demanding reasons for her tone.
"Hey we've been here for years without a hiccup; I don't think we are their biggest priority now," Jack argued.
"Yah I heard, karma is a bitch, or in this case, Captain Tight-Pants America." She snorted at her own wit. "Winters and I will be heading there first light. You better have a sick ass meal ready for me."
"Whoa, you found him?"
"More like he found me," She mumbled holding his piercing stare.
"I'll save the hot Goss for when we meet yeah?" she suggested, not wanting to discuss the subject, especially over the phone.
"Great," Jack responded, content with scheduling the conversation for later.
"See you soon Jo," He concluded rather excitedly.
"Damn straight." She uttered coolly and then ended the phone call. She smiled fondly to herself. It was nice to know that she was missed, especially when the one that mattered no longer remembered.
Baby steps. She convinced herself, he did remember one of their many naughty liaisons.
"I need to run a few errands," Jo announced and abruptly stood up.
"Errands?" Bucky echoed while munching on a remaining bagel.
"Internet café," She stated while picking up her jacket that she had draped over the back rest of her hair. "There is a lot I need to catch up on. You are welcome to join me but I think you should spend your time trying to sleep."
He tensed at her observation and she stared back.
"I noticed you didn't get any last night." She murmured like it wasn't of much consequence.
"Didn't know you had the chance to recon between all that snoring." He mused bluntly. Her eyes narrowed to slits, wondering if he was genuinely taking a shot at teasing her. She swore she saw the ends of his lips quirk up like he was stifling a laugh.
"Well, it's hard not to when you are looming in shadows like the fucking Boogie-man." She responded equally haughty and grinning brightly.
"If its nightmares I have a pill for that." She noted.
"No." He declined bluntly and stood up. She rolled her eyes while shrugging on her jacket.
"Suit yourself, more for me." She muttered under her breath. Jo marched to the door and opened it before waiting for him to follow. He brushed past her with his usual authoritative swagger. She knew he would have seemed more intimidating if he wasn't carrying her iPod with its attached earphones in his hands. She stifled a grin and shut the door at her exit.
He struggled to breath; his chest was tight and stiff. They had him pinned down from all sides, his back flat and cold against the metal table beneath him.
"Sergeant Barnes." He heard a deep raspy voice caution; it was sinister and sent a chill down his spine.
"No!" He fought back. He swung his arm and he made an impact with flesh. He heard a sharp pain filled grunt and the sound of a body hitting the floor with a heavy thump. White suits surrounded him and he saw the glint of a needle from the corner of his eye.
"Stop it!"
"Winters, calm down."
He gasped awake at the sound of her shrill call.
He shot up and alerted by the darkness that surrounded him. A silhouette on the floor beside his bed moved. His hand sneaked under his pillow and gripped at the handle of the knife.
"It's me. It's Jo." The voice rasped out, equally breathless. He stilled, the figured moved closer and her familiar scent consumed his senses. He knew he was no longer in danger but he was still struggling to regain his breathing pattern.
She hurried to him and took a seat on the edge of his bed. She reached out and gently palmed at his left shoulder blade, allowing him to feel the warmth of her hands against his skin, bunching away at all the stress his back accumulated.
"Deep breaths." She cautioned softly. He did as instructed and took a long, fulfilling breath that expanded his chest.
"One more." She insisted.
He took another gulp of air, panting from the dehydration.
"Good." She enthused.
He ran his parched tongue over his chapped lips while staring down at his sprawled legs. He was still gripping tightly at the rubber hilt of his blade. Slowly he allowed his fingers to relax and slide his hand back out from under the pillow.
"I told you should have taken the pill," She advised in a condescending tone he had no tolerance for in that moment.
"Leave me alone." He snapped pushing away from her healing touch.
"I don't trust you." He sneered.
There was a moment of charged silence from her end like his words had either angered her or greatly wounded her. He felt uncomfortable with the prolonged silence and the flight or fight instincts in him began to arise again. There was a stench of something sharp and metallic in the air, he wondered if it was from him, his mouth tasted like copper and he was desperate for a glass of water.
"Yet I am the one bringing you out of a nightmare." She grumbled sardonically under her breath. He uttered no response and continued to glower at her silhouette, expecting her to depart.
She sighed and stood up. He glared up at her from his seat on the mattress.
"Try not to scream so much." She warned irately. "We don't want any unwanted attention."
He found truth in her words but he was too tense and irritated to voice his acknowledgment. He glared at her as she began to make her way to the bathroom door. It was located on the wall adjacent to his bed. He heard the sound of the light switch flickering on. She opened the door and a streak of yellow light flooded into the room. He blinked under the harsh glare for a moment until the illuminated a substance on the floor.
Several drops of blood littered and smeared the floor. He gaped at the sight and his attention immediately returned to Joanna. He saw through the slit in the closing door, there was the unmistakable sight of a bleeding nose.
James Buchannan Barnes knew he had to be guilty of a lot of the crimes he had committed, but nothing impacted him more that realizing he had responded cruelly to a woman who had only tried to help. He had hurt her badly.
He had seen the evidence of it the next morning. She carried the purple, bruised cheek and swollen left eye like it was a fashion statement, but he knew she was in pain. She winced from time to time and avoided glancing at any reflective mirrors.
She avoided all eye contact with him, mainly because her left eye was the main functioning one at this point. She had uttered orders to pack up; afterall she had promised her friends they would be heading out on the first light.
Bucky hadn't argued and packed up efficiently. He had attempted to be chivalrous and carry her bags for her, but she was already out the door, having ignored him completely. He followed her much like a lost puppy all the way to the car.
He didn't like the silence, even though Joanna's love for the radio filled the air, the volume warned him to stay quiet, a passive aggressive notion that she didn't want to talk.
She parked the car at some random diner and exited without a word. Bucky sat awkwardly wondering where she was heading to. He was too cautious to question her, she carried the energy of a woman that shouldn't be reckoned with that morning.
So he sat in his own guilt, waiting anxiously for her return. He saw her exiting the diner ten minutes later. She carried a white bag in her hand while munching on a chocolate donut. She rounded the car, got in and steadied the bag on her lap as she ignited the car once more.
Bucky wanted to offer to drive, but the roles were reversed now, he felt like she was the one who didn't trust him. It was twisted and overwhelming and he wanted to run away from it all.
"Breakfast?"
He was startled by her offer. His head snapped in her direction. She was offering him a chicken wrap with one and while the other was steady on the steering wheel. Her cheeks were swollen from the remaining donut she munched on; Bucky noticed how dexterously she was chewing. She was wincing; clearly it was hard for her to eat without feeling the ache.
Bucky could hardly eat either, his stomach was in knots and his throat was tight with an apology he wished to voice. Instead, he chose to accept the meal in order to free her hand. He placed the wrap on his lap, stared at it contemplatively before looking to her again.
She was staring ahead, minding her own business, oblivious to his internal struggle.
"Jo." He called bravely.
"Yeah?" She rasped out in response, wiping the base of her thumb against the corner of her lip, swiping up a left over a smear of chocolate. His gaze dragged up the bruised side of her face, the skin at the sharp edge of her cheekbone had split open. The wound was pooled with dried blood, a large patch of dark purple bruising covered half the side of her face.
"I..." He gulped, throat tightening as his head began to throb in pain. The remorse made him nauseous.
"I'm..."
"It's okay." She cut in softly.
"What?" He demanded, stunned.
She slanted him a look before averting her attention back to the road.
"I know that look, I know what you are about to say and I am telling you, it's okay," She said with a hint of a smile."It's not like I haven't been punched by that arm of yours before. You did make me into the ass kicking, bad bitch that I am today."
"I don't remember," He admitted pathetically. He recalled several training sessions but none with her, he didn't know why the fact haunted him.
She glanced at him again.
"Maybe in time, you will." She mused pensively.
"Why can't you just tell me?" He demanded.
"I thought you didn't trust me." She murmured sending him on another guilt trip."How can I expect you to believe what I have to say?"
He frowned, his features creased in a sudden determination.
"You don't risk being beaten up just to wake a stranger from a nightmare." He responded sternly.
"What were we?" He demanded knowing there was more to the story than just them having sexual relations. She cared about him, he saw it now for it's genuinely, he needed to know why. What was so different? What made her so different from the others that didn't bat an eyelash in his direction? Why did he not remember her?
She continued to stare ahead, her jaw muscles clenched stubbornly.
"You will remember." She said confidently. He scowled in disappointment.
"Just tell me." He was practically pleading.
"No."
"What are you keeping from me?" He exclaimed growing aggravated. "Tell me what you are hiding."
"Calm down, Winters," She responded evenly. Her cool tone sparked indignation in him, it burned through him and locked his jaw in an angry snarl.
"Stop calling me that!" He barked. "My name is James Buchanan Barnes!"
They stilled simultaneously. Bucky was shocked by how own admission and acceptance of his identity. Joanna was startled by the revelation of it.
"James?" She echoed bewildered. "You know who you are?"
"I—" He turned away, scared and unsure.
"I don't know." He muttered despairingly.
Joanna fell silent and Bucky didn't feel like talking either. He felt the car take a slow but inevitable turn off the main road. The vehicle came to a stop but he hardly paid attention as he stared down at his lap.
A blur of manila from the corner of his eye had grabbed his attention. It was Joanna, she was gesturing a wide, paper file to him.
"Here," She said, expecting him to accept it. He stared questioningly.
"It's everything I could find on you," She explained. "The timeline was not something I was expecting, dude you are ancient."
He stared, marveled by her statement. With trembling hands he accepted the folder and placed it on his lap. It was a thick file, filled with documents and the organized with paper clips, not a single sheet out of place. He gripped the file in his hand, speechless while staring down at the blank folder.
"Why would you do this?" He asked, sadly and confused all at once. She heard the desperation and most of all the loneliness; he was mystified by her actions. She wished he knew not to be.
Their gazes met and Bucky was taken aback by the look of pure adoration she directed at him.
"Because even though you don't remember. You were the closest thing I had to a friend and I haven't forgotten."
He stared unblinkingly, his heart racing as an undeniable warmth spread through his body, filling him with a hope for what he did not know. She held his stare for a few more seconds and then averted her attention back to the vehicle. She started the engine once more and turned the wheel back on the road.
"Now if you don't mind." She said turning on the radio once again. "My jaw hurts so I want to just keep quiet and listen to some tunes."
He nodded amiably, accepting of her conditions. Of course, her jaw would hurt, she looked like she belonged in the ICU. He didn't voice out his thoughts and instead buried his guilt by focusing on the file on his lap. His hands shivered in anticipation of opening it.
He had been waiting, praying for a way to access his time at HYDRA. His mind had proved to be completely useless. It was more than just revenge on him, his journey into the jaws of HYDRA had been about finding answers. They hadn't been fruitful for the most part until he met Jo.
He decided he should ease up on the woman. Her bravery and determination to help him had proved her alliance.
Skeeter had been confused only a few times in his life. The day his mother handed him his Dad's watch and told him he passed away. When he found out he was attracted to the guy and girl next door and currently while staring at his screen. He wondered how a download that should have taken approximately two hours, completed in less than ten.
"What the actual fuck?" He mouthed under his breath.
"What is it?" Kevin perked up, alarmed by the IT expert's confusion.
"Look at this." Skeeter exclaimed pointing to the flashing, rectangular window that reads "100% downloaded"
Kevin's dark eyes narrowed at the screen, trying to find the error that Skeeter vaguely expression.
"Doesn't that mean we have all the Intel?" Agent Odell inquired unsurely.
"It was four gigs of data, it should have taken a little less than two hours, even with my high-speed data, my downloads are never this fast." Skeeter explained as his handgrippd the mouse and waved the cursor over a folder icon. He clicked it twice and it opened up into a blank window.
"There is nothing here." He announced.
"There are files right there." Kevin exclaimed gesturing to the several icons.
"Yeah, just the labels but look." Skeeter hovered the arrow over the object and it revealed there was no data within the file.
Kevin's heart sank to the pit of his stomach in disappointment. A heavy sigh escaped Skeeter's chapped lips.
"Guess we will never find out what Codename: Interface, is." He mused grimly while reading the title of one of the empty files.
"Are you saying there is nothing there?" Kevin demanded growing exasperated.
"There was clearly something here but I am betting someone accessed all the information, downloaded it and erased them, in a hurry too, what a sloppy job."
"So you are saying we have nothing?" Valerie repeated after over hearing from within the kitchen in the apartment.
"Skeeter there has gotta be something we can make sense of." Kevin pressured gently, trying not to lose his cool.
"There is a file in here that hadn't erased completely," Skeeter observed, hunched over his machine. "I'll try and see if I can piece it together, I need a minute."
Kevin took a deep, calming breath. It was eerie how many rocks they over turned and still found nothing, how many leads that led to dead-ends. Either they were down on their luck or someone really didn't want Isabelle to be found.
"It's a little creepy how badly someone wants to hide your sister." Valerie voiced his thoughts.
"I know." He agreed reluctantly. "Everyone at SHIELD is dodging my calls, except for Steve, but he is about as clueless as I am."
"Alright, so all I got was this name and address. It's to a Vaughn PR office down by the fly over." Skeeter narrowed down the info faster than Kevin expected.
"Near the Stark Tower?" Valerie asked, her cousin nodded and her expression turned grave. "Please tell me it survived the battle."
"Well, it's been reconstructed since but still functional," Skeeter noted.
"What's the name?"
"Clara Edelman."
Kevin nodded and absorbed the information. He repeated the name a few times in his head in order to not forgot, but then the sound of a pen tip scribbling on paper grabbed his attention. Valerie had a pocket-sized, black note book in her hand and she was writing meticulously.
"Let's pray this Clara woman is still around." Skeeter added and rolled around on his chair to face them.
"How is a woman working at the public relations office connected to your sister's investigation?" Valerie voiced out pensively while tapping the end of her pen to her chin.
"I guess we will find out once we get there," He suggested with a heave of his shoulders. Valerie nodded and then headed out in search for answers.
They arrived at the office which turned out to be in one of the many skyscrapers in Manhattan. The company was located on the eight floor. The elevator doors opened up into a narrow corridor that leads to a wide open space with a circular reception counter in the middle. Busy workers dressed in suits and other office wear bustled around the counter and branched off to all sides.
Kevin and Valerie lingered by the wall to the left and looked about hoping for some sort of assistance.
"Good morning Sir." A confident, polite voice called, grabbing his attention.
It was the receptionist. She was a round, cherubic-faced woman with plump cheeks, thick glasses and a very pleasant smile on her red painted mouth. Blonde curls framed her face and the twinkle in her eye made her highly approachable.
"Can I help you?" She asked.
"I hope so," He said, reaching her in quick strides and then leaning over the desk. "I am looking for a Miss Clara Edelman."
"We don't have anyone by the name working here." She answered softly, but she seemed uncertain. Kevin hesitated and glanced at Valerie on reflex. He didn't know how to proceed; he didn't know anyone else within the building or whom to be directed to. He considered asking the woman to check their employee database.
"You are the third person that turned up here looking for Clara."
Valerie and Kevin were startled by the deep voice that spoke near them. It was a security guard, an older gentleman dressed in a pastel blue shirt, black pants and police hat. He had a pair of thin, copper-framed glasses, square in shape and rather large on his weary features.
"You know who is she?" Valerie was quick to ask.
"Of course, I know, she bought me coffee every morning, nice girl. Shame about her disappearing on us." The man mused sadly.
"Disappearing?" Kevin echoed. "She doesn't work here anymore?"
"Not for nearly a decade, haven't even heard so much as a Facebook post from her. The techs would tell you more but the company took a hit after the whole alien invasion fiasco." He explained while tilting at the shade of his hat a top his thin, graying hair.
"Just like that? Gone?" Valerie demanded.
"It's a real head-scratcher, same thing I told the last guy I was here."
"Who?" Kevin cut in.
"I don't know, some dude with a hoodie and glasses. These millennial's all dress the same, who pays attention eh?" He chuckled earning a smile from Valerie. Kevin was staring pensively, he gut wrenched in a strange feeling, like maybe Clara wasn't just any lead at all, maybe…
He pulled out the folded piece of paper within his pants and spread it out before gesturing the image to the man.
"Is this Clara?" He asked, motioning to the still of his sister on the paper.
"That's her!" The old man exclaimed enthusiastically. Kevin's heart raced in amazement.
"The hair is a little different but same girl." The guard mused, peering keenly at the image."So you do nowhere she is."
"Not exactly,"Kevin mumbled.
"Is she in trouble?"He asked grimly.
"That's classified, Sir," Odell concluded. The security guard took a step back while blinking in surprise.
"Oh, you guys are undercover, gotcha," He whispered surreptitiously under his breath. "You did scream military though I should have guessed."
A third voice beckoned the older male. The guarded perked up in attention and hurried off to the direction of the voice. Kevin wanted to stop the man and demand more questions. He was positively intrigued by the discovery.
Clara is Isabelle? Kevin was reeling in shock. She had worked in New York, living among people, alive and well. Why didn't she try to come back home? Why hadn't she tried to see me? Kevin knew he shouldn't ponder such emotional questions but they continued to haunt him. He was under the impression his sister was locked up in some prison for mutants, not strolling about the streets of Manhattan.
"It wasn't just any Millennial." The reception abruptly chimed in snapping him out of his thoughts.
"Sorry?" Valerie responded.
"The guy that came here looking for her. It wasn't just anybody. I am pretty sure it was Tony Stark." The woman declared confidently.
"What?" Kevin was stunned. "How could you tell?"
"He was one of our clients back in the day. Mr. Vaughn has been trying to get him onboard to leech off some of the Ironman heat. I can recognize Mr. Stark anywhere."
"You were working here when Clara was around?" Valerie questioned not doubting the validity in the woman's words. Kevin had a hard time digesting the idea of Tony knowing about Isabelle's alias as Clara and not telling him about it.
"No. I started a year ago, but I've read up on the company's history."The receptionist explained. Valerie had more questions in mind, information to fill up the ever ending mysteries that surrounded the other Odell.
"Alright, thank you, Ma'am," Kevin said politely and then turned to leave. Valerie stared at the man, flabbergasted by his dismissal. She hurried after him with the intention of question his strange ways, only to be stopped when he steadied a hand on her shoulder.
Valerie was taken aback by the dazed look in the man eyes. He was paling and looked near faint. She was immediately concerned and sympathetic of his situation.
"If that woman is right, Tony knows more than he is letting on," Kevin said grimly. "I need to go see him."
"I'll come with you." She insisted.
"No, its fine, Val." He stilled her by the shoulder. "You head back to Skeeter I'll return the moment I get an explanation."
"I am coming with you Kev." She persevered stubbornly. "One thing I am incredibly good at and that's detecting bullshit. Tony will have a lot of explaining to do."
He didn't disagree there and he uttered no argument. He felt in that moment he truly needed Valerie by his side, the idea of learning more secrets about his sister scared him.
