After Winter
Chapter 4
Words: 1 644
Small talk filled up the entire walk to Steve's apartment. Bucky tried his best to listen, but he knew that he missed at least half of what was said. He was too lost in his regained memories.
ooooo
"Do you need any help?" he asked the scrawny blond boy who was sitting on the ground at the mouth of an alleyway, his head leant back against the brick wall, a handkerchief pressed at a bleeding nose.
The boy looked in his direction, shoulders tensing up.
"Buck," he said, relief palpable as he caught sight of him.
"Hey, Steve." Bucky slid down the wall to sit next to his friend. "Who was it this time?"
"No one."
"This No One has a mean punch."
"I can take care of myself," the smaller boy said sulkily, his words muffled by the fabric he was holding in front of his mouth and nose.
"I know you can, but I still wish that you would allow me to help you more often. You don't have to fight alone." Bucky took out his own handkerchief. "Here, use mine, yours is all bloody."
Steve might have glared at him, but he accepted the clean piece of cloth and pressed it against his nose. "It's mostly stopped," he said.
"So it has," Bucky agreed. Agreeing was always the way to go with Steve.
"You know, one day, I will be the one who rescues you."
"I'm sure you will, Steve."
"I mean it."
"So do I."
ooooo
War wasn't as glorified as he had believed. He had been stupid to think that it was glamorous at all. The training should have clued him in, but it hadn't. He'd still been all about the girls the uniform gave him, and the idea that fighting for his country was the highest calling he could follow in troubled times. The attack on Pearl Harbor had convinced him of this and as far as he was concerned it had only become better once he assumed the title of Sergeant. Sergeant James Barnes had a nice ring to it.
But being captured by HYDRA gave him a different perspective. Some might have called it a harsh wakeup call. For days which never seemed to end he was tasked to design rockets, what little know-how he possessed being used. It tore at him to do as asked; knowing what he rockets would be used for, but he had no choice. Death could possibly be his escape; however he wasn't maudlin enough yet to contemplate it. He wanted to live.
Eventually he had no longer been able to perform to the standard they demanded and he was locked away in isolation. If doing as ordered by their enemies had been bad, being separated from his comrades was worse.
And then the experimentations had begun. His situation was as far removed from glorified as it could possibly get. Cold. Filth. Pain. It was inhumane. Thankfully whatever drugs they were using on him, made him feel rather out of it and he had never been able to remember clearly what they had put him through, not even whilst it was happening.
Even if his mind had been in a strange place, he could still remember something about it though. He remembered the day when Steve had barged into that room and released him from the bonds holding him captured.
"Now you have saved me too," he had told his friend afterwards.
ooooo
His second date with Lily had been about as successful as their first meeting, meaning that things had been a bit awkward. She had resisted his charms as he tried too hard, but that had somehow endeared him to her and in the end she had agreed to a third meeting. It had also been the first time she noticed his metal arm.
Usually he covered it up, and with the excuse of English weather it was no problem to wear gloves for most of the year, this day though it was swelteringly hot and even wearing a thin, long-sleeved shirt and matching light gloves made Bucky overheated. Lily had of course noticed the sweat that kept on trickling down his back, making the cotton of the shirt stick to his skin.
"Wouldn't you be more comfortable in just a t-shirt?" she'd asked.
"No," he'd answered shortly, determined to find something else to talk about.
"What harm could it be? At least take of your gloves… Oh." She had looked horrified with herself as she came to a realization. He knew that she must have reached the wrong conclusion and if he had been smart he would have left it at that. He would have pretended to be embarrassed because of some skin disorder, heavy scarring or the like. He didn't think anyone should be ashamed of something like that, something you couldn't control. But sometimes it was easier to hide and she would have accepted it, but he didn't think he could lie to her and if he wished to keep her, honesty was paramount. He knew that he wouldn't be able to share everything, but he should not hesitate to share what he could.
"I'm so sorry," she'd continued as she'd seen his stony expression, "I didn't mean to pry."
"It's nothing like that," he'd reassured her, forcing his lips into an easy smile, "though I have as good a reason for wearing the gloves." He'd proceeded to remove the glove on his right hand, the hand which was normal, not a monstrosity of metal and cybernetics. "Are you sure that you want to see?"
Lily had bit her bottom lip, eyelashes moving against summer tanned skin. "Only if you want me to," she'd answered looking up at him with an expression that told a tale of trust and acceptance. He had removed the second glove.
ooooo
"James, what is that?" Lily had asked when she came to meet him in the hallway of their small flat. She had looked critically at the overfull shopping bag he was carrying.
"Call it a shopping spree to celebrate."
She'd taken the bag from him, picking up toys for young children as well as clothes in bright colours. "Why?" she had asked. "This must have cost nearly a month's pay for you. You always say that we need to be careful with our finances. You do this for me, so that I can continue to study."
Bucky had smiled before he'd taken the soft bear from her hands and pressed a kiss to her brow. "I've been putting a bit away for some time now, saving for the day when we would start a family. I didn't think it would be so soon, but I'm prepared. I can't wait to be a father."
ooooo
Only he had never been given the chance. The monsters who had manipulated him into becoming a killing machine had come a-knocking and now Harry's childhood was over. His son was all grown up and from what little he had heard the years had not been kind. He wondered how different it would have been if he had been around.
Would Harry have grown up to be a completely different person had he not disappeared without a trace before the boy's birth? It was impossible to tell, he only knew that he would spend a lot of time on the what if's.
Then again, if it hadn't been for his fall from the train in 1943 he never would have met Lily. He would possibly have died during some other part of the war, or he would have grown to become an old man who never would have gotten married to a young, intelligent woman like his Lily.
Their long walk, where the stream of conversation from the two men in front of him nearly hadn't abated for a single moment, came to an end as they reached Steve's place of residence. On the porch outside of number 304 sat Remus Lupin.
"If I had known that you would take so long to get here, I wouldn't have hurried so much," he said with a hint of accusation, though it was barely noticeable, which wasn't surprising as it was said by a man who normally was very genial.
"I'm sorry, Lupin. It's my fault. I realized that I needed time to think."
"Then it might have been for the best. You alright there, Harry?"
"I'm good. Nothing unsavoury happened."
"Just had to check."
"Do you want to ask a security question too?" Harry asked pointedly with clear exasperation.
"Perhaps we should. Who was I with the night before your seventeenth birthday when we moved you from your aunt and uncle's?"
"George Weasley. What did I call you when you came to Grimmauld Place at the end of last summer?"
"A coward and you were right."
The conversation bothered Bucky. Things must have been worse back in England than he had imagined, and his son seemed to have been in the thick of it. And why had he been with his uncle and aunt? He couldn't imagine Petunia taking Harry in for any reason. Something was very wrong and he was getting increasingly worried. He was worried for Harry and Lily and for how he might react if the worst… No he wouldn't think it, not until he had to.
"Now that we know that you are you and I'm me, maybe we can get inside? I hate to admit it, but my feet aren't used to this much walking. Whose bright idea was it that we should walk between all our destinations, professor?"
"I believe that Miss. Granger had something to do with that and Professor McGonagall thought it was a good idea."
"Figures."
As they spoke Steve had fished out a key and unlocked the door. "Come on inside, we're going up three floors."
End Chapter 4
AN 29th March 2014
There we have the next chapter. I hope you enjoyed it. Let me know what you thought and I'll write up the next chapter.
[Last edited October 2015]
