Author's Note: WARNING Kind of violent nightmare in this chapter so if you don't want to read it, just skip the second chuck of italicized text. Enjoy chapter 13! Thanks for reading!
Their marriage was totally legal. Totally. Right?
Carrie had to use some telepathic influence to make it look like they had the right papers, and to persuade the minister to drop all suspicion, and to make him forget their names and faces once they left, but it was still totally legal. She joked to Bucky, "You know, the one perk of me not finding my family is that we don't have to ask for their blessing if they're not here."
And Carrie actually wore a dress for the first time in six years.
It wasn't much- just simple sundress. They were even able to find it in white. They weren't so lucky with shoes, though. With tight money and a specific small foot size, she wore her regular sneakers with the dress. Bucky insisted that she looked beautiful no matter what and Carrie merely giggled at the sight of herself. Bucky actually managed to scrape up black slacks and a button-up shirt for the occasion. He was disappointed that he couldn't get a bouquet for her, only a single red rose to put in her hair, but they kept that little flower alive for as long as possible.
"Someday, I'm going to give you the honeymoon you deserve," he promised her once he carried her through the doorway of their shabby, little-too-cozy apartment.
"Don't speak such nonsense. Wherever you are is where I am happy." She casually skipped over to their worn-down cassette player they'd discovered at a second-hand store and the only cassette they owned: Loggins and Messina. "But there is one thing I want."
"Anything."
"Our first dance."
At first, he hesitated. He hadn't actually danced in 70 years. He'd recovered quite a few pre-war memories and caught brief glimpses of dancing with girls on weekends, but those motions couldn't just be picked up again after so long. Yet, he'd had a little practice on the times Carrie grabbed him and forced him to move to one of her favorite songs. Just go for it, he told himself. 'Anything' means anything and he'd made a promise.
She took his nervous hands and pulled him close as they swayed to the slow melodies emitting from the scratchy cassette player. He buried his face in her shoulder and she rubbed her cheek against the soft, warm fabric of his shirt.
And even though we ain't got money
I'm so in love with ya honey
And everything will bring a chain of love
And in the mornin' when I rise
Bring a tear of joy to my eyes
And tell me everything is gonna be all right.
Later that night, when Bucky thought about Carrie's stories and all the hopes they held, he asked her, "Do you really see and end to all this?"
"To what?"
"Running, hiding, fighting..."
"Maybe, but we'd need some help. Maybe Steve would be wiling..."
"No, I don't want to bring Steve into this. He's already got enough going on."
Carrie couldn't argue there. After hearing in the news that one of the Avengers had accidentally killed people in Nigeria, not to mention just after battling an army of sentient robots, Steve Rogers probably had enough on his plate. Carrie was especially sensitive to the story, considering that the Avenger who had killed all those people was one with powers almost identical to hers. What she would give to be able to talk to the crimson Avenger for just a few minutes. So many questions. Was she born with her power? How did she keep her power under control (aside from the incident previously mentioned)? What else could she do with her power? Had she tested her limits? What were her limits? Were there any? It saddened Carrie that this Avenger she identified with was now the subject of heated debate.
Those against the Avengers blamed her for the lives lost in Nigeria and questioned her place with the team altogether. Carrie couldn't wrap her head around the argument. True, innocent lives were lost and it was a tragedy, but it was purely an accident and many more lives would have been lost without her. Also, the Avengers fought against Hydra. The enemy of my enemy is my friend. As she made it clear to Bucky, once she could fin her family, her dream was to slaughter every member, ally, or associate of Hydra or die trying. Bucky wasn't too keen on the dying part, but couldn't find it in his heart to disagree with her.
"Hey, even if we can never stop running, it's not so bad. We're together. And you're getting better, so am I." She flashed her smile that always made Bucky feel like he could take on the world, but wanted to stay holding Carrie forever. "I will always take care of you."
Pride, ego, numbness. Not one of those things could stop Bucky from feeling like he needed to hear that.
"Everything's going to be okay," she said before leading into the story:
"Someday we'll live in a little house in a nice neighborhood with trees all around and a cool breeze for flying kites in the summer. There will be kids riding bikes along the sidewalks and people out mowing grass and dogs barking as they play around the green back yards. We'll have fun painting the house our favorite colors and spending nights curled up by each other gazing at stars."
Rest easy now, Bucky. Soon you won't be able to for a long time.
Carrie had done a lot of thinking in the whopping 36 hours they had been a married couple. The things Bucky said last night- they had her mind always returning to one topic. So when it came time for tonight's story, she thought she'd test out the waters with him.
"Someday we'll live in a nice house in a quiet little town with a white picket fence and flowers all around. We'll have apple trees"-she thought she'd try something new this time- "and a big back yard where our children can play."
Bucky's eyes flashed open and he instantly sat up as Carrie had feared he would.
"Children?" was the only word he could choke out.
"Well we can't completely rule it out this soon," she argued timidly.
"We can't have children."
"I don't mean now, I just mean someday if we can find our dream home and settle down and get your name cleared."
"Carrie, we can't. Even if we get my name cleared, Hydra will never stop coming after us. We could settle down if it was just us, but bringing kids into the mix would only slow us down and put them in danger."
"We don't know that. Maybe by the time we have a family, Hydra will be long gone."
"If not Hydra, then it'll be somebody else. There will always be somebody who wants to use us as weapons. There will always be an enemy."
"Our kids will have the most powerful parents in the world. Nobody would dare try to hurt our kids if they know who we are. If they do, we can protect them."
"We're not invincible. They could find ways to hurt our children if they wanted to."
"Well our kids might not be totally defenseless. They'll probably have some powers of their own."
He threw his hands in the air at the thought of one more thing to worry about. "Then what would we do? How to we teach a baby to control its powers?"
"Mine didn't show up until I was 14. Once they're that age, we will have had plenty of time to prepare them, and if they take after you, we'll just explain that they have to be gentle and control their strength."
"Still, do we want to give a baby this kind of life? Hiding, worrying about neighbors finding out who we really are, someone trying to kill us at every turn?"
"It won't be easy, but we can teach them how to cope."
Bucky looked very tired then. "How can we teach them how to cope when we're barely holding onto ourselves?"
Carrie softened her voice and stroked his shoulders gently, "Because we'll never stop trying. Hey, look at me. We'll be okay." She slowly led him back under the sheets.
"Thank you," he said with his eyes closed.
After planting a kiss, Carrie replied, "No, thank you."
Bucky never saw it coming. The bullet that hit Carrie in the back. He had been so focused on her that he hadn't seen the assassin behind her. She fell to the ground in a puddle of her own blood, but refused to lay down and die. She was trying to reach out for something. Bucky ran to her and tried to stop the bleeding, but had nothing to cover the wound. She spoke feebly and all Bucky could hear was his name. She looked past him, trying to reach, despite his efforts to keep her down. When he looked over his shoulder, he finally saw what it was she was trying to reach: a little bundle of blankets on the ground. He went over to the little bundle and found a tiny baby wrapped inside. The little baby had a dirty face like it hadn't been bathed in days. It made a face like it was about to cry and Bucky reached out to comfort it, but then realized that his metal hand might only scare it. He returned to Carrie to find her lying completely still, eyes staring into blank space. He thought she was gone until she grabbed his wrist with her last ounce of strength. Her grip was tight for someone who'd lost so much blood.
"Take care of him." She made one last glance at the baby, then at Bucky and went limp in his arms.
He didn't even have time to hold her before he heard a sound behind him. He turned around to see a grenade sitting inches away from the baby. The force of the blast knocked him away and out of the nightmare.
"Bucky! Bucky, honey, it's okay. It's just a dream."
Bucky became aware of the cold sweat that covered his body. "Carrie, I'm sorry."
"Don't worry. There's nothing to be sorry for," she comforted as he knew she would. She was so kind to him and he wondered what he did to deserve it. She sat quietly as he splashed water over himself in the bathroom. When he returned, he pulled her in close and held her tight, which surprised her but she didn't fight it. "You wanna talk about it?" she asked when he was done.
"No. Thank you. Go back to sleep. It won't happen again tonight."
"You're not gonna pretend to be asleep so I'll stop worrying about you, right?"
"Damn telepathy," he joked with the ghost of a smile.
"That's not telepathy. I just know you."
The ghost of a smile became a little more real.
"Hey, we don't have to sleep. We can stay awake and talk about things, or play a game, or draw, or do anything that doesn't remind you of whatever your dream was about."
"No, it's alright, just… come here, please."
She let him cradle her and wrap her up in blankets and he worked his magic on her. When he ran his fingers over her hair the spell was cast and she fell asleep. Then the night worries began. How could Carrie even consider having kids with their pasts? Even if they managed to secure a safe home, they couldn't escape the problem if the problem was themselves. He could already hear the questions coming.
Daddy, why do you have a metal arm? Why is Mommy so scared of spiders? How did you and Mommy meet? Why do you have bad dreams all the time? How old are you? How did you get so strong? How does Mommy make things float?
He couldn't take it.
How could two people who have taken so many lives create life?
He had been programmed to be a mechanical, unfeeling soldier, and no matter how far he had come since he left the Hydra compound, no matter how much Carrie had helped him, no matter how many of his old memories he got back, no matter how much he was becoming more like his old self, no matter how much he was learning to feel for people, his soldier training would always be a part of him. And Carrie. She was kinder than he deserved, but she had blood on her hands, too. Even more than he did. Given, it was Hydra's blood on her hands, which didn't really matter much to Bucky, but she didn't always have control over herself. Of course she would never intentionally hurt a baby, but if she got upset over something- like maybe a spider- she might not even realize her power was hurting the baby until it was too late.
And him- well, he was a mess as he saw himself. The Soldier could come back at any time, and the Soldier would have no regard for life, even if it was a life he had helped make.
No. Kids were out of the question.
Carrie wasn't too surprised when Bucky didn't ask for a story the next night. He also went straight to bed saying he was tired. Something was bothering him, she knew. Something other than what they talked about or one of his nightmares. She decided to let him rest for now and try to take care of it tomorrow. Little did she know that there would be hardly any chance to take care of it tomorrow.