Title: The Man With the Messed up Brain Remembers
Peter navigated the lonely aisle of the grocery store. The little money he had needed to hold him for the entire week. His questionable identity documents and ability to take exclusive action photos of Spiderman were the only things keeping him from being homeless.
How had Aunt May managed so long on her own? He felt the sting of tears in his eyes and wiped quickly at his face, then looked at the Top Ramen and generic cereal in his cart as he meandered down the aisle. What else was super cheap?
Pasta! He spotted an off-brand box of noodles and tossed a couple in his cart. Aunt May would want him to eat healthier, and bananas were on sale, so he grabbed a bunch of those, too.
As he reached the end of the aisle, he spotted a familiar face—another person he knew who had no idea that Peter Parker existed, which, in this case, was probably a good thing since Peter had tried to arrest him.
And the guy turned out to be totally innocent—of that one thing, anyway. Only sort of innocent of everything else.
So, yeah, it was definitely a good thing that the man standing a few feet away had no idea who Peter was.
"Parker." The man nodded briefly at him as he tossed a bag of plums in his handheld basket, then walked briskly away.
Peter stopped, his chest tight. Had the Winter Soldier dude just…
Parker.
He said my name. Maybe not. Maybe I misunderstood. What else sounds like Parker? Park? Darker? Larker? Marker? Why would he say any of that?
Peter left his cart and ran after Barnes. Where the hell had he gone? He checked aisle after aisle and finally found him grabbing a six-pack of beer.
"Hey!" Parker skidded to a stop as Barnes gave him a disinterested look. "Have we, uh, met?" Peter asked, trying to sound casual. "I mean, you remember me, right? Maybe?"
Barnes studied him for a moment, a deep line between his eyes and a half scowl on his face. "The kid who stopped the punch from my cool metal arm?" He raised a vibranium fist. "Yeah. You're not gonna try to arrest me again, are you?" His lips twitched upward. "I got pardoned."
Oh, wow! Oh, wow! Oh, wow!
Peter's heart was pounding in his chest. Maybe Dr. Strange's spell was failing?
"No! No!" Peter raised his hands. "I'm so sorry about that, really. I mean, Mr. Stark—" Peter shook his head. "Never mind. That was my bad. I mean, I thought you were an assassin. I mean, you kind of were, but—"
The dark look on Bucky's face told Peter he'd put his foot in his mouth again.
"I'm sorry, bad choice of words." Peter apologized quickly. "I know you didn't have a choice. It's okay, I'm just, look…. You're the only person who remembers me."
Bucky's brow furrowed. "What?"
"Everyone found out who I was, and—"
"Yeah, I saw that. Sorry, tough break, but I was busy with other things. Not really sure how that panned out. Saw something about an Octopus guy, though."
"You remember that?" Peter closed the distance between them.
Barnes backed away, holding out a hand. "Personal space, kid."
"Oh, right, sorry! You remember that? I mean, no one knows who I am now."
Bucky tilted his head. "Well, yeah, it did kind of die down suddenly, but I haven't been following the news on that…I just got back after helping Sam with a thing. Been a bit preoccupied." He scowled. "What do you mean no one remembers you?"
"I screwed up, and I asked Dr. Strange to do a spell, and it ended up opening up a whole multiverse thing—the multiverse is totally real, I mean that's crazy, I know, and then there were these bad guys who came in from the other universes, only they weren't really bad guys. You know, like you weren't really a bad guy, except you didn't have a choice and some of them kind of did, but anyway, I cured them, and sent them back, and I met other spidermen—two others—and then the whole fabric of the multiverse thing started to unravel, and Dr. Strange made everyone forget so that he could repair the damage, and—"
"Kid, how many blows to the head have you taken?"
"I don't know. A lot. But that's not it. I know this sounds crazy…"
Bucky sighed. "No crazier than a talking raccoon, a tree creature, a purple alien that disintegrated half the universe, time travel, and the God of Thunder being real."
Peter dared to hope. "So, you believe me?"
Bucky eyed Peter for several uncomfortable seconds until Peter started to wonder whether he was about to take a vibranium fist to the face.
Then Barnes shrugged and said, "I don't not believe you."
"Okay." That was a good sign. "I wonder if it's just you. Why would it just be you? You're not super special, or anything."
Bucky's blue eyes went ice cold.
"I mean, sorry," Peter raised his hands placatingly again. He really was an idiot sometimes. He had to stop talking. Dr. Strange was right about that for sure. "I just mean, the spell worked on the whole world, even people who knew me well. Even on Dr. Strange. Why wouldn't it work on you?"
"I don't know."
A woman with a cart turned the corner toward them, and Bucky started walking.
Peter followed, hurrying his steps to keep up with the super soldier. "Any idea why your memory didn't get erased?"
Bucky shrugged. "Maybe because my memories already been erased—a lot. My memories have a habit of returning."
"Did you forget about me, and the memory came back?"
"How the hell should I know?" Bucky glanced at him. "I don't think about you…ever. I wouldn't know if I didn't remember you if I'm not thinking about you."
That made a very weird kind of sense. "That's cool. I mean, I sometimes think about you, but not a lot, either."
"Great." Bucky took a place in line. "So we've established we don't think about one another."
"Can you-" Peter stopped, deciding this time he needed to consider his words carefully. He wasn't even sure what he wanted to ask. "Can you give me your phone number?"
Bucky retrieved his flip phone. "What's your number? I'll text you. Isn't that what everyone does these days? Text?"
"Oh wow, man!" Peter's eyes went wide. He hadn't seen a flip phone…well, he wasn't sure he'd ever actually seen a flip phone in real life. "They still make those?"
"It's a burner phone." Bucky gave him an incredulous look. "I do use a smart phone when I need to, if I'm…doing something."
"Like with the new Captain America?" Peter grinned.
He noticed a subtle shift in Bucky's expression and remembered who he was talking to—Steve Rogers' best friend.
"Oh, hey, I'm sorry about Steve, by the way. What happened to him exactly?" Peter asked. He didn't believe the moon stuff. That was just crazy.
Barnes didn't look up from his phone. "Your number, kid?"
"Oh right!" Peter rattled off his number as Bucky typed on the impossibly small phone. The fingers of his vibranium hand were remarkably adept. "Hey, the new arm is pretty cool. Way cooler than the first one. The Wakandans made it, right?"
"Yeah."
Peter's phone beeped, and he pulled it out, eyeing the text. "Got it. Thanks." He stared at the number.
It was the only number in his phone other than the Chinese place near his new apartment.
"Thanks, Mr. uh…."
"Bucky."
Peter managed a smile. "I just… I won't bother you, any. You're just maybe the only person who knows who I am, unless something wonky is going on with Dr. Strange's spell." He snapped his fingers, then dialed a number from memory.
"Hello?" Ned answered.
"Hey, it's Peter."
"Peter who?"
Peter's heart sank. "Sorry." He swallowed the lump in his throat. "Wrong number." He ended the connection.
"Nope, looks like it probably is just you." Peter pocketed his phone and waved at Bucky. "I'll leave you alone now, sir. Thanks for giving me your number, you know, just because, I…"
He what? What was he going to do with the number? The guy was over a hundred years old, and their last major encounter outside of Thanos had been Peter trying to arrest him and then almost decapitating him with a billboard.
Though, to be fair, Bucky had thrown it first.
Bucky's expression shifted, his eyes suddenly sad. "Look, kid, are you doing okay?"
Peter shook his head. His eyes stung. His cheeks grew hot. "No," he sighed. "I mean, I'm scraping by, I got an apartment, but…."
"Your Aunt doesn't remember you?"
Peter wiped quickly at his eyes. "She died. It was my fault."
"Oh, hell, I'm sorry. You're all alone?"
"Yeah. But, I'll be okay. I mean, it's kind of quiet. Nice, even."
"I know what alone feels like. Look, um, why don't I treat you to the pizza place around the corner, and we can sort of…catch up? You can explain this whole multiverse thing to me."
They made it to the cashier, who gave them both quizzical looks. Bucky gave a strained smile that looked more like a grimace as he set his basket on the belt.
Peter knew the old man was just being nice. "You don't have to do that. I'm fine."
"Kid, the court made me go to therapy—"
A concerned look crossed the cashier's face, which Bucky didn't seem to notice. Peter gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile.
"—and she said I need to nurture friendships. So, let me buy you pizza and, in exchange, maybe you can explain what the hell cryptocurrency is to me? I googled it, but I still don't understand it."
"I.D. please," the cashier asked, and Bucky pulled his license out and showed it to her.
Her eyes went wide as she studied it. "Uh, sir…"
Bucky sighed and dropped his head briefly, then looked up at her. "I swear, it's real."
"Sir," she gave him a skeptical look, "it says 1917."
"Yeah, it also says James Buchanan Barnes. Google me."
With a tilt of her head, she pulled out her phone and, a moment later, her face went a pale and she cleared her throat. "Uh…uh… $25.67," she sputtered.
Peter felt sorry for her. "Hey, it's okay. He doesn't kill people, anymore."
Bucky closed his eyes briefly. "Not helping, kid."
"He helped save the universe!" Peter added. "He's a good guy, really."
Bucky set two twenty dollar bills on the checkout stand, grabbed his beer and plums, and left the store.
Peter followed.
"Hey, man, is that all you came here for?" Peter asked. "Beer and plums? What are you even doing in Queens, anyway?"
"I like this beer, and I can only find it in this store," Bucky answered.
"Will the pizza place let you take that stuff inside?"
"They have a patio. You grab a table, I'll go inside to order."
"Okay, man, thanks!" Peter bounced alongside Bucky.
He had a friend. Okay, not a friend, but a guy who knew him. Remembered who he was. And, even though Peter had tried to arrest him, threw him over a railing, almost took off his head, and kind of helped get his friends sent to the Raft, Barnes was still willing to talk to him.
That was something to be grateful for.
AUTHOR NOTE:
I just saw No Way Home and wrote this little piece that may be a stand alone or may end up part of something larger. I'm not sure yet, but I wanted to play with this scene after watching the movie. It's just an indulgent, fun bit that I hope you enjoy...not meant to be taken too seriously! I appreciate all comments and feedback.