The actual concrete decision to visit his sister sits under his skin like a buzzing energy, and he spends the week the Avengers are away in France darting through seemingly last-minute preparations while he waits. He chews his way through everything Sam's app has to offer, and he has JARVIS order a safe for his weapons (and he pays for it with his own bank account), because somehow that seems an important step to take before he actually visits Hannah.
The safe comes by the end of the week, and he places it next to his desk in his room, sorting and storing his various weapons carefully inside, and feeling a little bit proud about that. He doesn't need to be constantly armed here in the Tower, because he's safe, and he can afford to lock his weapons away.
The safe is only a minor distraction from his current plan though, and he finds himself nearly vibrating with anticipation and nerves by the time the Avengers finally return from their mission. He helps them unload the quinjet once it touches down, and he has to bite his tongue to keep from bursting as he listens to them give him the barebones of the mission.
Yes the mission had gone well. Yes Hydra had been there. Yes they had rooted them out. No they hadn't found Rumlow. No they aren't sure if it's him or not.
He knows he should probably be more worried about the whole Rumlow thing, but he finds he can hardly focus on it as he waits to finally be alone with Steve so that he can tell him what he wants. The opportunity arises once all the equipment is put away and he and Steve take the elevator back down to their rooms.
Steve is tired, he can see that as they step out of the lift, but he absolutely cannot wait until morning for this, so he speaks up before Steve can open the door to his room and head inside.
"I want to visit Hannah," he blurts, his hands clenching on the fabric of his pants as he watches Steve. His heart pounds in his chest as he waits, and he's certain Steve can hear it when he turns to him, a surprised look on his face.
"Oh." He blinks a few times before his eyes brighten. "That's great!" A grin splits his face, his after-mission exhaustion seemingly put on hold for the moment. "We can get working on that right away. Well—" He huffs out a breath and shrugs his shoulder, looking a little rueful for a second. "Well, probably actually tomorrow," he says, before looking up at Bucky as if that is somehow a major inconvenience.
"No that's fine," Bucky rushes to reassure, his head suddenly light at the fact that he'd actually managed to start the process. "Yeah," he babbles. "Tomorrow's good."
Steve grins at him and Bucky flushes and grins right back, his chest practically bursting with a combination of excitement and amazement that he might actually visit Hannah soon. Of course, he doesn't exactly know what that will all entail, but the details can wait for tomorrow, today he'd actually asked.
oOo
"Does Hannah know I'm alive?" That's the first question he asks once he and Steve finally manage to sit down the next day to start planning for his upcoming visit. They are in the common room, but the other Avengers aren't around. He's not sure where most of them are, although he knows Stark is off somewhere planning his company's Halloween party for the children of SI employees. Clint is off somewhere for Halloween too – the mission had not gone overtime – but apparently his Halloween plans are not in the Tower.
Ordinarily Halloween – and Clint's disappearance, the latest of many – might be interesting to him, but right now, he can only focus on one thing, and that is figuring out how to visit his sister.
"I don't think so," Steve answers him, tilting his head. "I don't think your survival is known to the public, so I doubt she knows."
Bucky bites his lip and looks down. "I… can't just show up at her door then," he says, (although he doubts he would ever do that, the very thought makes him nervous). "How am I supposed to contact her without giving her a shock?" He pauses to think for a moment and presses his lips together. "Also… I feel like she should know about my memory before I actually visit her."
Steve hums in response and looks thoughtful for a moment. "You're probably right," he says. "We probably want to be sensitive about this, it is a pretty big reveal." He pauses for a moment, before looking up at him. "I wonder if I could visit her first," he says, rubbing his chin. "I could explain to her what happened and a little of what to expect."
Bucky nods immediately, the idea a relief. "Yeah," he says, his shoulders relaxing. "And then you can make sure she wants to see me."
Steve huffs at that and throws him a quick glare. "Of course she will," he says determinedly, before softening slightly. "It's okay to be nervous though." He flashes him a crooked smile. "I mean, I'm a little nervous. I haven't visited her yet, so… we'll see how that goes."
Bucky blinks a little at him in surprise. "You haven't?" He asks.
Steve's eyes glance away, and he shrugs a little awkwardly. "I wasn't sure if I should," he admits after a moment, still not meeting Bucky's eyes, his hands clasped in his lap. "It'd been seventy years for her, you know… and she was sixteen when I left…" He rolls his shoulders. "And I was really just her brother's friend…"
Bucky thinks back to how Steve had called the Barneses family, and he throws his own scowl at Steve. "I have a feeling that she'll disagree with that sentiment," he says, and Steve laughs, looking back at him.
"Yeah well…" He shrugs again. "I think I'm just bad at reaching out to people in general, Tony had to be the one to finally get me to see Peggy the first time."
Bucky blinks as he's reminded of Peggy, another person they had known that is apparently still alive, and, as he watches Steve, he can't help feeling that his friend has the same quiet fear that he has, the one that nags at him every time he thinks about visiting his sister.
The world had changed so much, he had changed so much… and visiting people from the past amplifies that, for better or for worse.
oOo
Steve waits until after Halloween to visit Hannah, and once he leaves, Bucky finds himself a bundle of nerves back in the Tower. He works his way through some of the 'Anxious/Worried' tools in the PTSD Coach app in an effort to keep calm, but he still finds his mind spinning.
What if he doesn't remember enough of Hannah? What if she doesn't want to see him? What if she does, but then becomes upset by what he's become?
He doesn't really have a lot of answers for these questions, although he does toy a little with the idea of watching some more of his memories of Hannah with the BARF tech. The thought stresses him out though, because if he did, he would have no idea where to start and would have no idea if he were watching the right memories, the important ones.
And… he has to admit, there is a difference between watching a memory, and, well, remembering it.
But that doesn't stop the questions spinning around in his head. Are the memories he has enough? What if he's forgetting something really important? How will he know?
He feels like he has a pretty good grasp on the major elements of his life. He had read the Howling Commandos book after all, (and a quiet voice in the back of his head insists that apparently Peggy can't remember things all the time, and people still want to visit her.) If people like Peggy, even though she can't remember, then… his memory issues could be treated similar, right?
He's waiting for Steve in the common room once he gets back, and he doesn't try to wait or hold back when he steps out of the elevator. "Did you see her?" He asks, stepping towards him. "Is she okay? Did you tell her? Does she want to see me?"
Steve smiles at his questions and lets out a little laugh. "Yes," he says, still smiling as he leads them over to the couches. "I did see her. I told her about you." He looks up at him, his eyes bright. "She's very insistent on seeing you."
Bucky's breath catches as he settles down on the couch next to Steve. "She is?" He says, his voice small. "She really— she really wants to?"
Steve reaches forward to grab his hand. "Yes, Bucky," he says warmly, catching his eye. "She wants to get some things ready first, so she's asked for you to come see her in two weeks."
Bucky blinks. "Two weeks," he says. He's not sure what he had been expecting, but now he has an actual day to look forward to. An actual day to go visit his sister. He swallows and finds his throat swollen with emotion, his vision going blurry.
He can still see the look of concern on Steve's face though, and his friend leans towards him. "I know that might feel like a long time," he says. "She'd see you sooner but she just wants to get—"
Bucky laughs and shakes his head, lifting his free hand up to wipe his eyes. "No," he says. "No that's fine. That's great actually." He lifts his head to grin at Steve. "I'm actually going to visit her. I'm actually—" He laughs again and Steve smiles.
He is actually going to visit Hannah. She wants to see him.
oOo
Two weeks is both too long and too short, and about one week into the wait, he comes to a pretty essential realisation.
"I don't know how to visit people," he blurts out, his hands pressing desperately onto the countertop as he sits across from Steve in his kitchen.
The thought had occurred to him once he had started trying to imagine what visiting Hannah might be like, and he had realised that he actually has very little experience dealing with people from outside the Tower. He's interacted with very few civilians at all. Pepper a few times, Darcy once, a few people at the library… but not much else. He hasn't even really been outside the Tower much, besides a few walks and trips. He really has no idea what to expect when visiting Hannah.
Steve must be able to read some of all that in his tight, anxious expression, because he smiles softly. "I have an idea," he says, leaning forward slightly. "Would you like to visit Peggy with me first? It could be kind of like a practice trip."
Bucky blinks and pulls back a little. He hadn't thought of that before, but he had been wanting to visit Peggy at some point… and somehow visiting her feels a little less intimidating than his upcoming visit with Hannah. If he can manage a visit to Peggy, then he'd probably be able to handle Hannah, right?
"Okay," he says, nodding. "Yeah… yeah, let's do that."
Steve calls the carehome Peggy is staying at before they visit. "Because of her dementia, she has better days than others," he explains as they drive out to DC a few days later. "I wanted to make sure we caught her on a good day."
Bucky supposes it's lucky that they managed to have a good day to see Peggy before his visit to Hannah, and he tries to be grateful for that as he and Steve finally arrive at their destination and sign in at the front desk. He's mostly nervous though, and he's certain that if it could, his metal hand would be sweaty on the pen as he signs.
As it is, his right hand has to take over in that department, and he wipes it on his pants nervously as he and Steve take the elevator up to Peggy's room. Steve leads them confidently down the hall from the elevator and they soon stop in front of a wooden door. "I'm thinking you should just wait in the entryway while I introduce you," Steve says as he raises his hand to knock. "I'll give her a bit of an explanation before you come in."
Bucky swallows and nods, following Steve inside as a voice calls for them to enter. He stops to wait just inside the doorway and breathes in while Steve continues onwards. The room itself doesn't seem very big inside. From the entryway he can see the kitchen and what looks like the doorway to a bedroom, but his view is cut off from the living room that Steve heads towards.
He can still hear Steve though as he sits down and greets the woman that had called to them, and Bucky swallows again as he listens in on their conversation.
"Hey Peggy," Steve says, and Bucky can hear the warm affection in his voice. That sound alone relaxes him slightly, and he listens as they make small conversation for a few moments before Steve gets around to the business at hand.
"I want you to meet someone," he says quietly. "I… I found someone." He pauses for a second and breathes in. "You remember Bucky." It's a statement and a question, and Peggy must nod because Steve continues softly. "I found out… he wasn't killed back in the war. He was captured by Hydra." He shifts. "I found him a few months ago."
He hears Peggy gasp and Steve continues to describe very briefly his captivity and unreliable memory. "He's here now though," he says. "He's waiting by the door if you want to see him."
He hears movement and than Peggy's voice. "Well we can't just make him wait, now can we." Her voice is determined, and, although it's a little thinner with age, it is still reminiscent of the determined woman that he can almost remember. Steve laughs and Bucky takes that as his cue to come out, his stomach swooping as he edges forward and finally steps into the living room.
It's a comfortable room, a window in the corner letting light onto a wall of pictures and the overstuffed couch and easy chair that Steve and Peggy have occupied. Peggy herself is in the chair, a quilted blanket around her legs, her eyes bright as she watches him walk in.
She's older, and he thinks suddenly that it is probably a good thing that he had visited her before Hannah. It makes sense, of course, that she had aged, but he finds somehow that he hadn't been expecting it — and now that he can see her, he understands that Hannah too, will be changed from what he can remember of her.
"It really is you," Peggy breathes, her eyes looking a little glassy as he comes around the couch to sit next to Steve. He smiles weakly at her, still unsure of himself. He can't remember much of Peggy. He has a few memories of her, and the book had spoken of her sometimes, but he still hardly knows her.
"Your hair is longer," Peggy tells him after a moment as she blinks her eyes dry and offers him a smile.
He finds himself smiling back. "Yeah," he says, bringing his hand up to feel his hair. "I don't mind it like this."
Peggy's smile widens at that and she leans forward to engage him in a conversation. It isn't as awkward as he'd been expecting. Peggy seems skilled at making people at ease, and over the next hour she tells him all about her own life, her husband, and her children, seeming content to keep the conversation mostly about her for the meantime. A few times, she becomes muddled on the smaller details of a story, but Steve seems to already know them well enough, and he helps her along when she gets stuck.
"You had a good life," Bucky comments afterwards, looking towards the wall of pictures, his eyes glancing over one of Peggy standing in front of the SHIELD logo, her face filled with pride.
"Yes," Peggy says, sitting back, her eyes glancing over him for a moment. After a second, she turns to Steve and lifts her chin. "I have something to say to Bucky now," she tells him, her voice leaving no room for argument. "I'm sure you can make yourself busy finding biscuits for us in the kitchen."
Steve blinks for a moment and glances at Bucky, his mouth twitching upward for a second before he looks back at Peggy. "Yes ma'am," he tells her as he pushes himself up from the couch. He flashes Bucky a smile, which he supposes is intended to be comforting, but Bucky still can't help looking back over at Peggy with an air of trepidation once Steve disappears off to the kitchen.
Peggy smiles at him, but it seems to be tinged with sadness now, something like regret in her eyes. "I'm glad to see you, Bucky," she says softly, her hands in her lap. He swallows and nods at her, not quite sure where the conversation is heading. Peggy smiles another sad smile at him, and squeezes her hands together. "Actually," she says, "there's something I've always wished I could tell you."
He leans forward slightly, glancing over her. "There is?" He asks, and Peggy nods, her eyes flicking down before darting back up again.
"I've always wished I could apologize," she says quietly, her eyes on him. He blinks a little in surprise at her, and Peggy shifts slightly in her chair. "I don't know if you remember," she says. "But a long time ago, you once asked me to look after Steve if you died."
His eyes widen, and his throat suddenly goes dry. "I remember," he rasps out, his mind flashing back to the conversation he had had with Peggy in her tent.
Peggy's eyes are bright when she looks at him. "I tried," she says, blinking away a few tears. "I tried, but I think I was too late. I could see it happening, just like you said." Bucky opens his mouth to speak, but Peggy continues. "I was on the line with him just before he died," she says, rubbing a thumb over her clasped fingers. "I tried, but I could hear it in his voice. It was too late." She reaches up to wipe her eyes and gives him a watery smile. "I'd thought we'd lost him forever, just like you," she says. "But now here you both are, together again."
Bucky swallows and thinks back to when Steve had told him that Peggy had been on the radio with him on the plane. He can't imagine how difficult that must have been for her. "Yeah, well." He clears his throat. "I already chewed Steve out for that." He offers Peggy a crooked smile. "It all worked out in the end," he says. "I'm glad you were there for him."
Peggy laughs softly at that and wipes her eyes again, before finally calling Steve back into the living room. Steve has indeed found cookies for them, but there's a red tinge to the back of his neck that lets Bucky know that he had heard their conversation. He isn't surprised, since if Steve can hear heartbeats, then he can be sure to overhear them in such a small apartment.
He doesn't say anything about it though, and neither does Steve, even after they leave. He does hope though, that the conversation had had an impact on his friend. He is 100% serious in the demand that Steve never pull a stunt like that ever again. And he hopes Steve realises that.
oOo
The visit to Peggy proves to him that he can reconnect with people from his past, and that he can interact with regular people, but he is still nervous when the day to visit his sister arrives. He spends the entire ride upstate with Steve feeling mildly nauseous, his mind darting through everything he can remember about his sister.
Why hadn't he spent more time looking her up? He should have tried to remember her more — he should've have used the BARF tech, even if that isn't exactly remembering. It would still be better, right? He would at least know things. He should know things about Hannah. She deserves a brother who can at least remember things about her. Does he even know her birthday?
December 2nd, he reminds himself firmly. That had been in the book. He does know things about Hannah, and he's certain he will continue to remember things about her. And, anyways, Hannah knows about his memory, and she still wants to see him. So there.
He tries to keep that in mind as Steve pulls up in front of Hannah's house, the yellow building sitting snuggly in a neat row of houses on a quiet street. "Are you sure you don't want me to come in with you?" Steve asks, turning towards him once they've stopped, his eyes dropping to Bucky's chest for a moment before raising to his face.
Bucky is certain that Steve can hear his heart beat fast against his chest, but he shakes his head. "No," he says, swallowing to try to make his voice steadier. "No, I want to do this myself." He actually almost smiles as the words leave his mouth, because almost every memory he has of Hannah, has her saying something similar.
Beside him, Steve nods and gives him an encouraging smile. "Text me when you're finished," he says, tapping his pocket where his phone sits. "I'll come get you then."
Bucky nods and takes in one more breath before squaring his shoulders and opening his side door, swinging himself out of the car. It's mid-November now, so the grass is brittle and dead as he walks up to the house, and he tugs his jacket closer around himself as he climbs the steps.
He knows Steve is watching him as he raises his hand to knock at the door, and he breathes in again, trying to calm his stomach. His heart pounds relentlessly in his chest and he feels slightly lightheaded as he waits, his right hand sweaty and cold.
He hears the steps as they approach the door and his breath stalls, his eyes wide as the door swings open in front of him. He… thinks he might actually forget to breathe as he stands frozen on the doorstep for a few moments, simply taking her in.
She's older now, like he knew she would be, but her face is somehow still the same from his memories, the lines simply more defined. Her hair is short now, and white, and she's dressed in slacks and a blouse, something he's never seen her in before. His eyes trail over her frame and he notices that she's leaning on a cane, the skin of her hand thin and wrinkled with age.
In front of him, her breath stutters and he darts his gaze up to her face. Her eyes are wide as she stares at him and a hand climbs up to cover her mouth. "It really is you," she breathes, and her voice brings sudden tears to his eyes.
"Hi— hi Hannah," he says, his voice shaky and just barely managing to make it past the lump in his throat.
Hannah lets out a breathy, watery laugh and steps back, leaning on her cane as she gestures for him to come into the house. Her eyes flick over him as he steps inside, like she can't quite believe he's real, and he can feel her gaze linger for a few moments on the metal of his left hand as he turns to close the door.
She's smiling when he looks back at her and the sight of it makes something giddy rise up in his chest. "It's good to see you," he says quietly, and Hannah's smile grows wider.
"Come in! Come inside," she says, turning away to lead him into the living room just off from the entryway. Further into the house he can see a kitchen and some stairs leading upwards, but Hannah directs him to a brown sofa nestled cozily in the middle of the living room.
His eyes skate over the room as he sits, and he can't help marveling at how comfortable it seems. Besides the couch, there is an armchair by the window, with a basket of knitting and a TV that is much smaller than anything he's seen before sitting next to it. The living room itself seems mostly filled with bookshelves, a few well cared for plants sitting next to volumes and binders that line the walls.
He glances over them and Hannah seems to notice his interest. "It's my collection," she tells him proudly as she sits down next to him on the couch. "My eyesight is a little weak these days but…" She gestures to the coffee table in front of them, and on top of it sits a cloth-bound binder, similar to some of the ones on the shelves. "I still have this."
He blinks and looks from the book to her. "What is it?" He asks, not quite willing to reach for the binder without her permission. He is glad though, that they seem to have been able to find something to talk about easily. Even with his trip to Peggy, he had been a little nervous about the idea of holding a conversation with someone he can barely remember.
Hannah seems to have planned for this though, because she smiles at his question and leans to pick up the binder. "I wanted to show you this," she says quietly, looking up at him. "I…" She strokes the cover for a moment and swallows. "Steve told me… that you don't remember a lot. That Hydra wiped your memory."
He nods mutely and Hannah breathes in. "Well, you're lucky," she says, turning the binder so that they can both see. "This, is a photo album. We… we didn't have a lot of pictures, but," she gestures at the other binders on the shelf across from them. "I have them all."
His mouth drops open as he realises what she is saying, and he leans towards the book, his heart pounding. The binders have— they have pictures of his family, pictures from before. He glances between the book and Hannah, his eyes wide. "Can I…" His hand drifts towards the book without conscious thought and Hannah smiles.
"I have a whole collection," she tells him as she opens the album, leaning towards him as she shows him the first page. "This one starts off mostly about Ma and Pa…"
The first picture is a wedding photograph. It's old, and black and white, but he can still make out the smiling faces of his… of his parents. He watches mutely as Hannah continues to turn the pages, chatting quietly as they flip through letters and newspaper clippings and other small mementos, pictures showing up here and there, carefully preserved on the pages.
"Here's you," Hannah says, with a smile, pointing to a small dark-haired baby on a white background. It really is him, he can tell, and he can't help the feeling of awe that he has at the sight of it. It's one thing to know he was born, but quite another thing to see it.
The mood of the book changes slightly after he is born, because his father goes off to war, and the following pages are filled with the letters between his parents and news clippings from the war.
"So that's the end of that one," Hannah says once they flip through the last page. She closes the book and pulls herself up using her cane, the binder clutched to her chest. "I have the rest over here."
She makes her way over to the bookshelf and puts the binder away, pulling out a new one to continue their exploration. He finds he loses track of time as they flip through the binders. Apparently their mother had been very keen on making and keeping these books, and Hannah had inherited them.
"I kept making them after she died too," she says quietly as they look at a foggy picture of the family on a beach. "It felt like a good way to remember her."
Bucky nods quietly, his eyes on his mother's small, neat handwriting as she documents the history of each insert in the book. "We didn't have a lot of pictures for a while," Hannah continues. "But…" she flips to a pencil drawing of George Barnes stoking the fireplace. "We had Steve." She grins at him. "He practiced a lot with us. I think we were really lucky that way."
Steve's drawings become more frequent and more skilled as time goes on, and Bucky can tell that some of the images had been drawn specifically as gifts. "I have a whole separate binder of just his sketches and things," Hannah says, while they admire Steve's depictions of the family at dinner. "I offered to give it to him when he stopped by, but he said I should keep them."
They turn to a picture of Becca on her wedding day, and Bucky blinks. "Oh hey, I remember that," he says in surprise. It may only be very very vaguely, but he does remember it, now that he knows what is happening. He can remember being happy, and proud, and trying not to cry—
Hannah grins, the wrinkles on her face moving with her. "Yeah," she says, before her eyes dim slightly. "That was in 1941, right before we joined the war." The book reflects that, because newspaper clippings and government announcements about the war begin to creep into the pages, and then—
"This was your draft letter," Hannah says quietly, her hand brushing over the plastic protecting the yellowing paper. "I found it, when we were going through your stuff after— afterwards. I kept it, just to–" She shrugs, swallowing. "Well, at the time, I was trying to hold on to anything of yours."
Bucky swallows, his eyes suddenly wet. He hadn't thought a lot about what it would have been like for his family after he died. He hasn't had time to think of it, but Hannah had lived with it for a long time.
Hannah strokes the letter again. "I remember when you got drafted," she says softly. "You asked us not to tell Steve. You were worried about how he'd react." She blinks and shoots him a small smile. "Considering how he didn't start tryin' to join the army until after you went off for training, it was probably a good idea to keep quiet about it."
Bucky thinks back to how Steve had told him that he had actually known about him being drafted, and he nods, his eyes narrowing. It's looking like his past-self's fears were not wholly unjustified.
"These are your letters," Hannah says, and he darts his eyes to her, the page turning to show a series of letters written carefully, to make the most of the available space. "Ma kept all of your letters," Hannah tells him, as they look them over. "Kept all of Steve's letters too, once he joined."
She laughs softly and shakes her head as she turns the page. "Was a real shock for us," she says. "When we finally learned what had happened to Steve. He couldn't tell us until he joined the Howling Commandos, you know. We knew he was in the army but not that he was Captain America."
There are a few pictures now of old-timey Captain America propaganda, intercut occasionally by letters with pictures drawn by Steve. There are letters from the both of them now, interrupted every once and a while by photographs of the family back home, but it's clear that the war and the war effort had taken up a lot of their life.
Hannah flips to a new page, and she stops suddenly, placing her hand over a faded telegram, silence falling over them for a moment as she thinks. "We got this… when you died," she says finally, her voice breaking slightly. His gaze darts to her, and her eyes are glassy as she swallows. "We got Steve's letter a little while afterwards, but by then…" She swallows again and lifts up a wrinkled hand to wipe her eyes. "By then Steve had died too."
He stares at her, and she wipes her eyes again, offering him a watery smile. "Everyone was busy mourning Captain America," she says. "But we were mourning both you and Stevie…" She looks off to the side for a moment, her hand back on the binder. "They kept calling him a hero," she says quietly. "But they didn't even really know him. And anyway, he was still dead."
She sniffs and shakes her head, breathing in shakily. "Alice's fiancé died too, a few months later. It…" She sucks in a breath. "It was a hard year for our family."
His breath catches and he reaches instinctively for her hands. "I'm sorry," he says, because he can't think of anything else to say. "I can't even… I can't even imagine."
Hannah's hands squeeze his, metal one and all, and she smiles gently at him. "Well." She breathes in and seems to settle herself, her eyes becoming a little brighter as she squares her shoulders. "Well. You're here now. Even if you're a little late."
He actually barks out a laugh at that, and Hannah's eyes glitter, her tears beginning to dry. They turn back to the binder after that, and Hannah starts introducing him to the family history he had missed. "This was Noah when he was a baby," she says. "He's Becca's boy, you know. He's got two children of his own now, and they have children too. I've got them in some of my later albums."
He can only stare as more and more of his family life unfolds. There are more photos now, since they had apparently finally been able to afford a proper camera, and they slowly take on more colour. His father and mother growing older, his sister having children, Hannah getting married, Alice graduating as a nurse— all of it, he'd missed— he'd missed all of it.
Hannah is showing him a picture of a family reunion when the image goes blurry and his eyes fill with tears. The onslaught is too sudden for him to even try to hide it, and before he knows it, tears are slipping down his face, muffled sobs catching in his throat as he sucks in a shuddery breath.
"Bucky, what's wrong?" Hannah asks, her hands fluttering over him, obviously concerned. He shakes his head. He doesn't know how to explain the pain at having missed everything. He'd mourned his missions with Hydra yes, but this is a whole new kind of tragedy. He'd missed so much with his family, and then Hydra had erased the few memories he'd had of them from before…
It's just— it's not fair.
Hannah reaches gently around him to pull him into a hug, and she feels so small and old against him, and he cries harder because he'd hardly been able to know her at all. She'd been sixteen when he'd left, and now she is an old woman, and the only immediate member of his family he has left.
Hannah doesn't say much while he cries himself out, merely rubbing his back and letting him lean against her shoulder. He begins to calm down eventually, and pulls back finally, wiping his face and breathing in shakily, trying to get himself under control.
Hannah pats his arm and gives him a reassuring smile. "There now," she says. "Let me get you some water." She makes to push herself up with her cane, and Bucky opens his mouth to protest.
"That's okay," he says quickly, not wanting to burden her. "I can—"
"Oh hush," she says, waving her hand as she makes her way to the kitchen. "I can do it myself."
He pauses at the familiar argument, and can't help smiling a little as he watches her leave the room. She comes back soon enough with a glass of water, and he can feel himself settle as he takes a few sips, sniffing to clear his nose.
"You going to be okay?" Hannah asks, her gaze gentle as she sits next to him.
He nods. "Yeah," he says, clearing his throat. "Yeah, I just—" His throat closes up slightly. "I just missed you." He swallows at the sudden complete truth to those words, and Hannah gives him a small, sad smile.
"Me too," she says quietly.
They continue to look through the albums for a while longer, before Bucky finally admits that it's getting late, and that he should probably text Steve. Once he does, he gets Hannah's number too, so they can keep in touch, before finally getting ready to leave. "Take some of the binders with you," Hannah insists, grabbing the first few and putting them in his hands. "That way you can look at them closer. You can give them back when you visit me again."
She gives him a Look that translates into an order to come by again, and he smiles. "I will," he says softly.
She nods definitively at that and stands up, making her way over to the chair and knitting basket by the window. "One more thing," she says, bending down laboriously to pick something out of the basket. She turns to him, a blue bundle clutch in her hand, her eyes flicking over him almost nervously. "I… made this for you. That's what I was working on, after Steve told me you were still alive."
She comes closer, and holds it out to him. It's a knitted scarf, and he reaches for it dazedly, the wool soft against his fingers. "It's getting to be winter now," Hannah continues, shifting a little as she watches him. "I made it blue, cuz that used to be—"
"My favourite colour," Bucky cuts in, clutching the scarf to his chest as he looks up at her. "It—" He lets out a shaky laugh. "It still is."
Hannah's smile is nearly blindingly bright.
AN: So Bucky finally got to visit his sister! And Peggy too, I really wanted him to visit her, because I felt they needed to have the conversation they did.
As for Bucky's sister, I really feel for her and her family, having to lose everyone that they did in the war, and poor Bucky is dealing with having missed out on everything thanks to Hydra. But the visit went well :)
Also, last week was the one year anniversary of me posting the first chapter of "Alternatively", and we only have five more chapters of this fic!
