CHAPTER FOURTEEN – The Kiss of Dawn
Perhaps Fury had been right all along; taking time off wasn't such an inconvenience after all. I spent my vacation time with Peggy mostly, she took me Christmas shopping and out to dinner –it felt strange to be doing something so mundane rather than traveling the world and undergoing missions. Peggy brought me a small fake fir tree, accompanying me back to my quarters to dress the space with Christmas decorations. Her festive mood was contagious, and it lifted my spirits somewhat to distract the depressing thoughts about Bucky being alive and the constant ache in my chest. It was usually after missions, when I'd be alone in my lodgings at headquarters that the loneliness would creep in around me. I would question whether I'd chosen the right path or not, whether I was making a difference in the world or whether I should pack it all in for a simpler and peaceful life.
After sharing a rowdy dinner with Peggy and her family, I left them singing carols, and enjoying umpteenth mulled wines to take a cab back to headquarters. We passed recognizable postcard marvels on the way. Similar sights greeted me in 1938, when I first arrived in the city, I now called home. Ever since returning from my mission though I'd been driven into combing through the archives, endeavoring to find every scrap of information about Steve and Schmidt's aircraft –I even went as far as to call Howard, interrupting his demanding work schedule. And like Peggy, he was convinced I was just tormenting myself. There was no evidence to suggest Steve survived the crash or even if there was a crash as the wreckage was never recovered.
The moment the cab screeched to a halt outside the Strategic Homeland Intervention Enforcement and Logistics Division building, I handed a few notes to the driver and departed the cab, hugging my overcoat tightly against my dark green dress as a light snowfall flurried about me. I headed straight to the agents' lodgings, moving automatically and without being aware of my surroundings. I unlocked the door of my assigned apartment, leisurely unbuttoning my overcoat as I entered.
I kicked the door closed and slipped out of my high heels, walking over to the kitchen where I left my purse on the counter. I smiled fondly at the potted fir tree, clogged with fairy lights picked by Peggy's niece. "How is she always right?" I remarked aloud to myself.
Running a hand back through my hair I headed to the bathroom, taking a long hot shower. I kept the warmth in by enfolding myself in a flannel robe, walking out of the bathroom while untangling the ends of my hair with a hand. My bare, damp feet sunk into the lush carpet as I walked over to the bed, flicking on the bedside lamp before perching myself upon it, retrieving my tin box from the bedside table.
The metal was cool to the touch and worn from time. Hidden within were precious memories. A small smile formed as I opened it, discovering one of the few photographs I possessed of me and Bucky during our short-lived romance. This one taped to the inner lid, my favorite, as while I was smiling for the camera, Bucky was looking me. A wondering look that reminded me of the old Errol Flynn movies I still loved. I hadn't opened the tin in over six months, so consumed with work. Now in the tranquility of my quarters I could spread these memories around my bed and take a trip back in time.
-x-
I woke with a start, blinking rapidly as my eyes adjusted to the dim light emitting from the bedside lamp. Sirens howled through the night, progressing further away while my racing heart calmed. It was only then I heard the patterned curtains attached to the nearby window flap. An icy breeze caught the material puffing it up like a lady's skirt. I gently tucked a hand beneath my pillow. My fingers brushed against the Walther PPK, curling around the handle. I withdrew it as I gradually sat up, my semi dry hair falling around my face. There was a feeling in my gut –empty like a bottomless pit that warned me something wasn't right, and I recognized exactly what it was.
"You made a mistake in coming here." I spoke calmly in Russian, raising the Walther with one hand while the other hastily packed my letters and photographs into the tin.
"You know it's me?"
A shiver ran down my spine as Bucky's voice replied in Russian.
"Only you would be so bold as to break into a government facility." My tongue slid over my parched lips, eyes darting around and lingering upon the shadowy corners until he finally emerged. "What are you doing here?"
Bucky walked confidently towards me, oddly dressed in plain civilian clothes and his brown hair hidden beneath a black baseball cap. He paused in the light and raised a hand. I instinctively rested my index finger against the trigger, holding my breath until something delicate and shiny dangled from his grasp.
"My locket," I whispered and scooted to the edge of the bed. I reached for it, only for Bucky to hold it back. "Give it to me! You had no right to take it from me!"
"The photo…it's us."
"Yes, it was taken while we were stationed together in Europe."
"And the ring?"
"The engagement ring you brought for me," I replied quietly, ignoring the dull thud of my heart beating roughly in my chest. "You'll never know what losing you did to me."
He didn't respond but extended his hand to me, allowing my necklace to slip from his grasp and fall into my awaiting hand. I glanced at it and the ring for a moment before setting them on the bed next to the Walther.
"Are you here to kill me?"
"I don't have to be."
My lips parted, yet there were no more words to say. I was speechless as his last five words revealed everything I needed to know. At some point, we would face off, one would have to kill the other and I found myself staring at the floor in solemn reflection. How could I kill the man I loved?
I jumped somewhat when his cool, metal fingers gently rested beneath my chin, lifting it so I was forced to look up at him as he knelt before me. My gaze began to blur the longer he studied me, and I wasn't entirely prepared for the moment he covered the space between us and kissed me. I couldn't deny similar scenarios went through my head the last time we were together. I wanted him to remember me, to remember Steve and his life before HYDRA stole everything. I finally understood what he'd went through when my memories of him were lost.
His lips lingered against mine, parting slowly and then pressing more firmly. My body betrayed me, starved of attention I pulled off his baseball cap, running my fingers through his growing hair. Bucky eased me back against the bed, tearing my robe slightly as he pulled the tie free to reveal the delicate nightgown. Sighing softly, his lips found their way to my neck. His fingertips caressing my skin, gradually tiptoeing up my thigh.
"Bucky," I whispered his name only to be shattered by clarity. Ignoring the tight pain in my chest I held him back. "I can't do this; you're not my Bucky."
"Does it matter?"
"I'm not desperate enough to delude myself into believing you are." I uncoiled my arms from around his neck, missing his warmth instantly.
"I thought you were stronger than this."
"I was," I admitted. "Seeing you in Russia made me remember who I was, what I lost…I can't go back but I don't have to give in either. If you're going to kill me, just do it already. I think I've lived a life to be proud of, one people will remember me for."
Immobile beneath him, I willed him with my eyes to do whatever his mission commanded. His metal fingers slid over my skin, drawing the fear from within as they powerfully curled around my throat. The cold grasp of certain death enclosed against my pulse, squeezing, adding more pressure until I gasped. My lungs fought to function, and I instinctively grasped at the arm, but Bucky appeared unfazed, staring into my hazel eyes.
"I'm sorry," he whispered.
My heartfelt words seemingly sunk in to whatever emotion lingered within him. His moment of vulnerability gave me a break. Throwing my fist forward, I rammed my knuckles into his stomach. The abrupt force winded him. His mechanical fingers released my throat and I snatched the Walther, lining up the kill shot as a deep grumble vibrated in his throat.
"Tin man has a heart after all," I remarked unkindly. "Like I said, I don't have to give in, and I never will. I will fight until my very last breath."
"You can't kill me."
"No, but you always forget, I was a nurse."
As much as it grieved my heart to commit the act, I pulled the trigger. Changing my line of shot, the bullet grazed his arm. His eyes widened and the moment he stepped towards me, another shot rang out, this bullet ripping through the material of his shirts to enter his stomach. It was messy, but survivable if he got help relevantly soon.
"You've got two minutes, maybe three before agents break down the door."
Bucky held his stomach, gritting his teeth as he bolted for the window, jumping out and disappearing into the night. Four agents stormed into the room with gusto moments later. The main lights went on revealing Ewell leading the charge. He saw me perched awkwardly on the edge of the bed, my weapon loosely held in my hand, and he holstered his weapon rushing to my aid.
"Widow! Are you okay?"
"I'm okay…the window," I muttered somewhat absentmindedly.
The other agents went to investigate as Ewell gently took the Walther from my grasp, placing it aside. "What the hell happened?"
"I would have thought it was obvious."
Ewell softly reached for my chin, titling my head back so he could inspect my neck. His cool, calloused fingertips traced my neck, lingering on a couple of places where I guessed Bucky's mechanical fingers had left their mark. Not surprisingly as he'd come close to crushing my windpipe. Trusting that Bucky still had a shred of humanity left in him was a risk, but one I was willing to take to prove that somewhere buried beneath the layers of a cold bloodied killer was the true Bucky Barnes.
"I'll call medi –"
"No," I lightly brushed Ewell's hand away. "I'm okay, Jon, really."
"Who attacked you?"
I debated whether to tell the truth or not. Either way it wouldn't matter. The Winter Soldier was a ghost –it took me a decade before I even came face to face with him, the chance of it ever happening again after this incident was rare.
"The Winter Soldier," I finally spoke up. "He must have been waiting for me when I came back, I didn't hear anything. He came to kill me. I didn't have a clean shot, but he's wounded and we both knew the noise would alert someone."
"He wouldn't want to be captured by us, especially me." Ewell's menacing tone matched the flash of vengeance in his eyes. I placed a hand on his shoulder, smiling feebly. "Are you sure you're not hurt?"
"I'll be fine, I always am."
Ewell reached for my hand and drew it from his shoulder, holding it tightly in his grasp instead. "You don't have to be so strong all the time, even if you are a super soldier. No one will think any less of you 'cause you act human."
It was nice to hear him say that, nevertheless, I only truly felt like myself in Peggy's company –she knew me and what I'd been through better than anyone did. I managed to keep the small smile on my face as I curtly nodded my head. "You should call the Director; he'll want a full report on tonight's events."
Ewell nodded and reluctantly released my hand. He rose to his feet and made his way over to the telephone. I sighed, glancing at my where my tin box and locket still sat and then at the open window. Would I ever see Bucky again?