Warning: There are conversations about suicide in this chapter.
Chapter 31: Little Bird, Have You Got A Key?
Mika, I was the Winter Soldier.
The words hung in the air between them, making it feel thick and heavy. Bucky felt like his heart had completely stopped. It had been his last option, his last attack to make her understand that he was not someone to keep close. Those six words sealed his fate; he needed to gather his things immediately, and leave for Croatia. But his whole body felt frozen, forcing him to watch as Mika's expression changed from shocked to confused to understanding. That was when his body thawed, and he went with his gut instinct - closing the door. He meant to slam it shut, lock it behind him, and immediately escape through the window. But that plan was interrupted by Mika's foot stopping the door's progress, leaving it mostly open. Damn her and her reactions. He shouldn't have trained her so well. His heart jolted at the look she was giving him - it wasn't fear, or apprehension, or alarm. No, it was concern.
"Mika, don't do this." he whispered. It was supposed to be a clean break. He was supposed to leave days ago. Why didn't he leave? He knew the answer to that, of course. He was entirely too attached to her at this point, and while he tried to spend the last week forgetting his feelings, their roots only seemed to grow deeper.
"You said 'was.'" she said, as if that statement meant anything. She put her hand on the door as well, just for good measure. He could see she was determined to keep it open. He must have looked confused for a moment, because she expanded, "Past tense."
"Past, present, it means nothing." he said softly. He was the most dangerous man on the planet, and he had been stupid enough to put her into this position, all because of his own selfishness. She shook her head, vehemently disagreeing with his statement.
"Our past does not define us. It's what you do now that does." she replied, and he wanted so badly to believe her, to join her on the optimistic side of things, the side where he could live the life he wanted. But he knew better than that. Out of all the grueling lessons he'd learned over the past seventy years, there was one that stuck out: nothing ever lasts, and everything good dies. He shook his head.
"I have done horrible things, Mika. I can't - I won't put you in danger any longer. I'm sorry." he said, trying to push the door closed. She held fast, and though he knew he could close it if he really tried, he stayed his hand. She took a step closer to him, reaching out as though to touch him, but he moved just enough away that her hand met nothing but air. Her eyes were sad, the saddest he'd ever seen them, but he was steadfast in his resolve. This was best for her.
"We've all done bad things, Bucky." she said softly, taking another step toward him. She was almost in the doorway now. He needed to retreat.
"Not like the things I've done." he said. His chest ached with the conversation. Why wasn't she leaving? She should have turned tail and ran as soon as he admitted his past life. She should be terrified. She should hate him.
"But that wasn't you. You told me yourself, they took you. Tortured you. Made you do things you didn't want." she said. God bless her, she was trying to comfort him at this time? Of course she was. He tried to muster up every bit of coldness that he could, but it melted at the sight of her face. It was he who stepped forward this time, so quickly that she took a step back. That's it, back into the hallway. Back into the light. Back into safety.
"Doesn't change the fact that I did it." he said. He thought the truth would be enough to end it. And while he knew the things he could say that would damage their relationship beyond repair, he chose not to say them. They weren't true, and he was done lying to her. He didn't want to hurt her, that was the whole point. "One day I will have to pay for the sins I have committed, all the cruel things I've done. I am broken and I am dangerous, and you deserve better than that, you deserve the goddamn world. And you and the world are better off without me. Goodbye, Mika. Please send my regards to Nicoletta." he said. At those words, fear finally settled on her face, her expression so scared that he felt like his insides were being torn in half. But she was now out of the doorway, and with speed he hadn't used in a long time, he shut it and locked it. He moved away from it, away from her, going to the kitchen and prying up the floor again. She was pounding on the door, frantically screaming his name, but he ignored it. He needed to go. Now. But he froze again. All he could do was rest his elbows on the sink, facing away from the door and covering his ears and shutting his eyes and waiting for her to give up.
Outside, Mika was in a panic. His words were familiar, eerily familiar, and suddenly she couldn't hear or think or breathe. She felt only the hysteria of someone afraid to lose a loved one.
You're better off without me.
"Bucky! Bucky open the door!" she said, hammering the door with her fist. She felt like something was gripping her heart and lungs, felt like she was drowning on what little air she could take in. "Bucky! Please! This isn't the answer! Bucky!"
There's too much blood on my hands.
She knew he wasn't going to open the door again. But she wasn't taking his silence as an answer. She tried the handle, but of course it didn't turn. She attempted slamming into the door with her shoulder, but that only gave her a sore spot that was likely to be a bruise in the morning. Not that she felt the pain, since all her blood had been replaced with adrenaline. He wouldn't open the door, and she couldn't break it down. But maybe, just maybe, she could pick the lock.
I'll never pay for the wrongs that I've done.
She knelt in front of the door, practically ripping pins from her hair. They clattered to the floor, her clumsy fingers unable to keep a hold of them. She made a frustrated sound and picked them back up, squeezing them so tightly the metal bit into her skin. She tried to take a deep, steadying breath, then another, then another. She needed her hands to be steady. She'd done this a thousand times before, she reasoned. Every time she forgot her keys, she picked her way back in. She willed her heart to slow, her hands to stop shaking. She could do this. She had to do this.
Tell Nicoletta I said goodbye.
Her fingers were numb as she put the pins into his lock with practiced ease. She'd never tried this on anyone else's door, only her own. And she prayed to whoever was listening that it would work. Her mind was so clouded with worry that she almost didn't hear the lock click open, and even then she was afraid that she imagined it. She held her breath as the pins dropped to the floor again, her trembling hand reaching up and grasping the doorknob. As soon as it turned, she leapt up and pushed her way into the apartment, unable to hope for the best considering her all-consuming fear of the worst.
Bucky was bent over his sink, and it took a moment before he realized she was inside with him. He turned to her with a look of confusion and fear, and he may have said something to her, but she did not hear it. She immediately grabbed his right hand, and in his surprise he allowed her to do it. She pushed up his sleeve, her hand running over the skin of his wrist. He was saying something else, but she ignored him, putting her hands on his cheeks and making sure his focus was completely on her.
"Bucky, what did you take?" she asked, her voice strained and wavering despite her trying to keep it even. He didn't answer right away, which caused her panic to rise. "What did you take?!"
"Nothing." he said, as if he didn't understand the question. Her hands dropped from his cheeks to his shoulders, though her worry was still sky high.
"Did you drink something? Eat something? What did you do?" she asked, shaking him slightly. She had to know what he'd done, that way she could help him. She had to help him. He shook his head, for once his emotions plain as day on his face.
"Nothing. I haven't done anything." he said. He put his hands on her arms, trying to figure out what was going on in her head, trying to understand why she was freaking out. The metal of his prosthetic hand clicked in the silence as she gathered her thoughts and tried to catch her breath.
"You didn't - you haven't -" she was unable to finish any of her sentences. She took a step back from him, running her hands through her hair and taking deep, gulping breaths as if she'd been suffocating.
"Mika, what's going on?" he asked. He was missing something here, and it made him nervous. Her hands moved from her head to her heart, and for a moment he was worried she was going to be sick. Perhaps she was worried about that as well. She leaned on his kitchen island, hiding her face for a long time. The silence ate away at them, but he was a patient man. He could wait for her to put herself back together. When she looked at him again, there were tears in her eyes that she was stubbornly trying to blink away.
"Are you alright?" she asked him quietly. If it weren't for the look on her face, he would have laughed at the question.
"I'm alright. I promise." he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. The whole situation was baffling to him, and while he could make inferences as to her concerns, he still felt like there was something she knew that he didn't. She nodded, crossing her arms over her middle to prevent herself from falling apart. "Did you think...were you afraid I would harm myself?" She nodded again, pressing her lips together as the tears finally spilled onto her cheeks. Afraid was a light term for it. She preferred petrified or terrified.
"You were talking like it was the last time I was going to see you." she said, her voice finally solid. Now that the danger had passed, she felt exhausted. He didn't answer, watching as her eyes finally flicked around his apartment. This was the first time she'd been inside it, and the most obvious decor was the tactical bag, packed and ready for his departure. It was going to be the last time she saw him. "I'm sorry, I overreacted."
"Don't apologize." he said. He had the distinct impression that he should be apologizing, but he did not know why, so he kept it to himself. "Was it...something I said?"
"Everything you said." she replied, giving a hiccup of a laugh that was by no means humorous. Her eyes dropped, and she leaned against the island. Based on the look in her eye, she wasn't completely here with him right now. He wondered if that was how he looked when he was stuck in his memories. Mika usually said most things that were on her mind, but she was holding back here. Bucky had just given her his biggest secret, and he wanted to know hers.
"I'm not following." he said, and that was the truth. She rolled her lips in, staring at the floor for an extended period instead of answering him. With a sigh, she reached into her back pocket and pulled out her phone. He didn't see where this was going, but he waited, his curiosity and his concern both piqued. For a brief moment, he thought she was going to call the authorities, tell them she knew the identity and location of the Winter Soldier. But she didn't call anyone. Instead, she started playing something, a woman's voice he didn't recognize echoing through his apartment.
"Hey Mika, it's me. Um, I know it's late...it's too late...you're probably asleep. You should be asleep." the woman didn't seem able to keep her thoughts straight. He could hear the subtle tone of distress in her voice. His heart started sinking to the pit of his stomach. "I hope this didn't wake you...or maybe I do...I don't know anymore. I know it's been a couple weeks since I've called but...listen, Mika, you're the strongest one in the family, so I'll be straight with you. I've fucked up. The work I did in America...it wasn't what I thought it was. They told us we were helping people, but we weren't. God, Mika, the things we did, the things I did…" the voice broke here, her emotions obvious. Distress turned to desperation. "I tried to fix it, tried to change it, but the corruption, it was too deep. I had to leave, but they could find me any day. It's not safe to be my sister anymore, and I won't put you in that danger. I won't do that to any of you. There's too much blood on my hands, Mika, and I'll never pay for the wrongs that I've done." the woman was sobbing now, and Bucky felt prickling behind his own eyes as well. Tears fell in a steady stream down Mika's face, and she was covering her mouth with her free hand to stifle her cries. "You're better off without me. Tell Nicoletta I said goodbye."
If the silence had been heavy earlier, it was absolutely crushing now. Bucky had no idea what to say, and Mika was uncharacteristically quiet. He knew she valued closeness, but now seemed like the wrong time to embrace her. While she didn't seem shocked or scared of him after his earlier confession, that didn't mean anything right now. She was riding on adrenaline and emotions right now, and her feelings might change after she had time to let it sink in. She gently placed her phone on the counter, her eyes still down on the floor. He stood completely still, giving her time and space to collect herself. She wiped her tears, taking a sharp breath to try and return to her center.
"I, uh, went straight to her apartment the next morning. But it was too late." she said, her voice surprisingly steady. This was something she thought about regularly, even if she avoided listening to the old voicemail most of the time.
"I'm sorry. I didn't know." he said. He understood her fears, now that he heard so many of his words played back to him in a different voice. There were two ends of the spectrum with a conversation like that, and she'd experienced the worst of it. She shook her head.
"You couldn't know. I haven't told anyone, not even Elena knows the full story. She just knows I had an older sister that passed away." she said, straightening up. He still waited for her to look at him with fear in her eyes, to turn and run as she realized what he'd said. The corner of his mouth twitched at her words; he knew what it was like to hide a defining secret. But he didn't realize what it was like to be let in on someone else's secret. She looked him in the eye now, trying to feign confidence in her most vulnerable moment. His feelings for her, simmering just below the surface, boiled over so fast he almost choked on them.
"Thank you for sharing this. And thank you...for caring about me." he said hesitantly. He still felt like his heart was in his throat. He assumed no one would care if he lived or died, but once again Mika proved him wrong. She gave him a sad smile, uncrossing her arms and barely shifting her weight forward before stopping herself. She wanted to hug him, but he looked so nervous and defensive that she held back.
"Of course, Bucky. I care about you. A lot. Maybe I should say it more often." she said honestly, and he felt like a bonfire was alight behind his sternum with her words. He took a risk then, moving so that he was leaning against the island next to her. He was still afraid to touch her, but he wanted to be near her. He crossed his arms over his chest, looking down at the floor between them. This could be it, this could be his moment to confess the feelings that had been swirling around in his mind for the past week. Even for someone who didn't always get social cues, he knew this was an opening that may not come back around anytime soon. But as he looked at her, he realized that now was not the time. Right now, she needed her best friend.
"I care about you too." he replied, stopping himself before he could add, as more than a friend, more than I ever thought I would care about someone. He still felt the elephant in the room, and in the back of his mind he thought that as soon as Mika was alone, she would realize exactly what he'd confessed. A month ago, a year ago - hell, even a week ago - he would have just let it happen, let the fear sink into her and accept it. But he didn't want that. In fact, it occurred to him that he wanted her to accept him and understand him very badly. Did he deserve to have her reciprocate his feelings? No. But so help him, he did not want to lose her. "You probably have a thousand questions. What I told you, about the train and the scientists - that was all true. It just happened during World War II."
She didn't say anything for a moment, and he was afraid that the fear had set in. But when she finally spoke, it was only to ask, "How did you get out?"
He figured that question was going to come around eventually. As he tried to formulate his response, he realized the explanation was longer than he would have liked. He summarized it the best he could. "I encountered someone from my past. He was able to beat some sense into me, knock my mind free of the hold they had on me. So instead of going back to my handlers, I left."
"Someone from your past...but then they would be…" he saw her trying to put the puzzle together. She was smart, he knew she would figure things out without him saying everything. "Wait, did you know Captain America?" he gave her a rueful smile, and she laughed. "Of course you knew Captain America. I don't even know why I'm surprised."
"Steve." he corrected her. Even back in the days of the Howling Commandos, he never really thought of him as Captain America. He always thought of him as Steve. That little guy from Brooklyn that was too stupid to run away from a fight, I'm followin' him. That's what he told him once. "A few days after my escape, I went to this big museum exhibit. It helped me start to remember some things, like how we grew up in Brooklyn and all the work we did with the Army. It told me my name was James Buchanan Barnes, and that I'd died that day on the train."
Her brows furrowed; she was trying to keep up with the minimal information that he was providing her. He wished he could tell her everything, but it was so much, and so painful. "So the name Bucky…" she left her question hanging, and he wondered if she thought he'd been lying this whole time. Granted, he was, but not about his name. Well, his first name at least.
"That's what Steve used to call me. James Buchanan Barnes may have died that day, but turns out there was still a little bit of Bucky left." he replied. He felt like his blood was filled with sand as all his anxieties converged; besides the alarm about giving up information, he also had to worry about how she would receive these facts, and then his own affections towards her just sent it all through the roof. But he was going to push through it. He had to. One corner of her mouth quirked up in a smirk, which made his heart flutter for a whole different reason.
"Can I ask one more question?" she said, trying very hard to suppress a bigger smile. He hated when she asked things like that, but he willed himself to keep calm.
"Anything." he replied, and he meant it. He may not be able to give her all the details, but he would certainly answer whatever she wanted.
"Does this mean I can make fun of you for being like, really really old?" she asked, her resolve finally breaking as a massive smile emerged. He couldn't help it, letting out a bark of a laugh that quickly led to rolling laughter. That question did not surprise him in the least.
"Something tells me you will regardless of my answer." he replied, still laughing intermittently. He could feel himself calming, regressing to the mean. But something was nagging at him from the back of his mind.
"See, that's the kind of wisdom that comes with years and years and years of experience." she said, pressing her lips together in an effort to hold in her giggles. He rolled his eyes, shaking his head. He didn't mind the jokes, but he'd hoped they would at least be good.
"Full of shit." he said. He cleared his throat, and while he hated to bring the mood back down when it was trending upward, he still had one thing he needed to say. "Look, if ever there comes a time where this is...if you're ever scared, or don't trust me-"
"Bucky, stop right there." she said, using her mothering tone. "We've all done bad things. It doesn't make you a bad person."
He got the distinct impression that she wasn't just talking about him, especially now that he'd heard the voicemail from her sister. He wondered if he was repeating things she'd heard before, if that's why she was so calm in this situation. "Can I ask a question as well?" he said, deciding to voice his thoughts for once.
"Absolutely." she said, and while her voice was steady and confident, her fingers were absent-mindedly picking at her nail polish. He wondered if he should notify her about this tell, but decided to save it for another time.
"Your sister...did she ever tell you who she worked for? Or what she did?" he asked. He wanted to know what the scale was. A part of him was also deathly curious and deathly afraid that somehow he and Raisa had crossed paths before. Mika opened her mouth to respond, but hesitated for a couple breaths before actually getting the words out.
"She didn't tell me, no. But I um, found out. Later." she said. He was silent, waiting for her to continue. "The agency she worked for was overthrown a couple years ago, and all their information was dumped onto the web. I was digging through some of their files out of curiosity and I found her name."
"S.H.I.E.L.D." he said, filling in the blanks. He didn't know why he hadn't connected the two before, though he supposed he thought that the division was more covert than that. She seemed surprised that he knew to what he was alluding. "How do you know S.H.I.E.L.D.?" he asked. She licked her lips, holding her answer in; after all he'd divulged, she was hesitant to confess this for some reason. It was something else she'd never told anyone, not even Nicolae, whom she worked with.
"They, uh, outsourced some coding to my company. I did the project, coded the program to implement some weird algorithm they had." she said. She looked down at her hands now, though her fingers had stopped their movement. "I wanted to see what they were going to use it for. Turns out, it was to kill a bunch of people. So that was great. But yea, I saw the team she'd mentioned once or twice and kinda went down the rabbit hole from there until I found her. They still have her listed as 'absent without official leave.'"
"Organizations like that like to make sure things are confirmed." he said. He was listed as many things over the years - MIA, KIA, POW - and now, he supposed he was AWOL as well. He turned over her words in his head, how they were going to use her code to slaughter. Now he wondered if her statement earlier about bad things versus bad people was also about herself. He wondered how much guilt she was carrying around for things that she had no control over. It wasn't up to her to keep her sister alive, it wasn't her fault that a Hydra-overrun S.H.I.E.L.D. took advantage of her skills. He considered Mika a positive person, and it hadn't occurred to him how much she might be hiding with her smile. He wondered something about these files she'd found. "Did you read anything about me?"
"About the Winter Soldier?" she clarified, differentiating between him as a person and the asset that Hydra had abused the past seventy years. He noticed the distinction right away. It was the first time someone had verbally confirmed what he was hoping this entire time - that he was not just the soldier, that he was still himself. She shook her head at his question; her hands were calm now, no longer nervously chipping away the color on her nails. "I can look though, if you want."
He thought about it, seriously considering it. Perhaps there was something, deep in those documents, to help fill in the gaps of his memories. Perhaps there was something about his arm or the experiments they used to give him regenerative abilities. Perhaps there was something about his family. And perhaps there was nothing there except for pain.
"No, I don't think so." he said, and he felt good about his decision. She gave him a smile that made his heart constrict painfully; yes, this was definitely the right way to go. "Probably better to just look forward."
"That's all we can do." she said, reaching for his hand and squeezing his fingers. The gesture was so warm and comforting he stopped breathing for a second. They both felt a calming sense of closure, and the closeness that follows such vulnerability. She continued holding his hand as she said, "Speaking of which, all this excitement and secret sharing has burned like, a thousand calories. Want to go get some pizza?"
It was past midnight, but she could ask him to fetch the sun, and he would. "Pizza sounds good." is all he said, letting her pull his arm around her shoulders and lead him out of his dark apartment. He felt like a fire was burning through him, his sentiments towards her overwhelming him. He didn't know if they felt so strong because it had been so long since he experienced them, or if it was just heightened like the rest of his senses after the experiments. Either way, he knew he could not hold them in forever.
But he would at least hold them in for now.
I know this is a very sensitive subject, and I hope it was alright. If you or anyone you know are having suicidal thoughts, please reach out for help. You are wonderful, and you matter. The US national suicide prevention line number is 1-800-273-8255.
I seriously cannot thank everyone enough for the wonderful feedback last chapter. I've been looking forward to these past five chapters since I started this story, and I'll be honest, all your responses made me a little emotional. I've never loved a fic I've written as much as I love this one, and I'm so happy that y'all love it too. This arc has been very dramatic for sure, so I hope you liked it! We'll get a little breather before things ramp up again.
There's been a couple questions about timelines, so just so y'all know: as of this chapter, we're currently about 5-6 months (story time) before Civil War, and I think it's a little over two years after The Winter Soldier.
Side note, the chapter title is from the song "Caught a Long Wind" by Feist, if you're into music recommendations.
Please let me know what y'all thought of this chapter!
-XM