"I'll have the turkey panini, thank you,"

Taking the menus from the table, the waiter nodded at Jackie and left. Considering how grim the man sitting in front of her looked, it was quite a surprise that Bucky had himself chosen this restaurant to meet in. The plaid blazer she had lent Bucky, hung freshly dry-cleaned, from her seat, even before she had arrived.

"What made you choose this place? It's great,"

"Back in the day, I used to come to a bar on this same street. At least I think it was the same street; it's hard to tell. So, I found this place here instead, and… it's not bad,"

Jackie gave a faint smile, but her eyes were strained from a weary night. However, that was not up for discussion, and neither did she want Bucky to sense any apathy from her side, so she kept the conversation on him.

"Did you bring a lot of girls to the bar?" she raised an eyebrow, giving him a small smirk.

Bucky chuckled softly; his arms crossed across the table. "Actually, I think I brought Steve here more often. Usually, after his alley fights…" his voice trailed off as did his gaze that settled on the chip floor.

"You must miss him quite a lot," Jackie remarked quietly, as if afraid to see something that was not meant for her to see. She felt lame making such an obvious comment, while her companion was reminiscing a time long gone.

Bucky didn't respond. Or perhaps he didn't even hear her. His melancholic gaze turned towards the table and a moment of silence passed between the two.

A couple of weeks after their last complicated meeting, Jackie had nudged him a few days ago, with a text that that she was free for lunch on Saturday. He had simply replied with a location.

The café interior was nothing grand, but it embodied the New York interior design. The brick walls created a cosy ambience, complimented by the smell of freshly baked bread and coffee, that filled the air. Low jazz played on a record player in the corner of the café, and vintage bulbs hung delicately across the ceiling. Jackie noticed a light drizzle starting outside their window, as the sound of thunder echoed through the walls. A storm was approaching.

"What's the date today?" Bucky's brows furrowed.

"October 6th,"

"It's my sister's birthday," he pondered, staring out at the dark grey skies outside. Bucky and Jackie were encapsulated in a bubble of warmth and solitude, compared to the commotion on the other side of the window, as people rushed to avoid the incoming downpour. A few entered the café in anticipation.

Rubbing away the exasperation of the night before – which had soaked into her eyes, Jackie leaned forward to read Bucky's face; but it proved impossible. He didn't seem particularly perturbed, just pensive. As if he was lost in a reverie. Jackie couldn't figure out how to respond. It was rare for Bucky to talk openly, and she didn't want him to regret sharing this small detail of his world; should she show too much interest. His words were always calculated and precise, and she had a feeling that held true, even in this quiet moment of revelation. He always had a reason for every word he spoke.

Her empathetic silence proved to be the correct answer, and Bucky carried on after a long pause.

"I just don't know what I'm supposed to do with all of this. Where does it all go, you know?"

"Where does what go?"

"These memories. Everything that remains… from a world that's gone. Birthdays, names, places. People. As painful as it was not knowing who I am, sometimes I wonder if it was better than knowing everything,"

"Really?"

"I don't know… forget it. Anyway – how was your day?" Straightening up in his seat, Bucky ran his fingers through his hair. He wore a light blue t-shirt, black pants and the same brown jacket that he wore last time they met; except this time, there were no traces of blood on it. Neither party had any intention of bringing up their last meeting, ever again.

Jackie recalled emotional car ride to the restaurant and everything that happened prior to it the night before. She could give a blunt, yet honest response – and let Bucky navigate the awkwardness himself. The discomfort of pity. In all fairness, Bucky's reaction was certain to defy expectations, and differ from the norm. Nevertheless, vulnerability wasn't on the table for her today. She stared down at her fork. The coffee maker hissed in the distance as the rain splatters grew larger on their window. Maybe it was the eye strain from the lack of sleep she'd had the night before, but Jackie felt a pressure building behind her eyes and a gnawing feeling in her chest, as if her body was warning her of an upcoming migraine – or a breakdown. Right now, she hoped it was the former, but she doubted her luck would win today.

Ears ringing and tears welling in her eyes, numerous thoughts clouded Jackie's mind, but she couldn't grasp any of them to get a closer look at; each escaping as soon as it entered her brain. She was tired. She was hopeless. And she had dragged the silence for far too long. Bucky shifted in his seat, possibly wondering his most simple question was a mistake, and if he should just move on without an answer.

"It was pretty shit," To ensure that no tears fell, Jackie's concentration remained focused her silver fork. It worked as her vision gradually cleared up along with the lump in her throat. "I spent the night in the hospital with my mom. Until she kicked me out," she sighed. Unclenching her fists in her lap, she wiped the sweat from her palms on her jeans. She wore a loose, tucked-in, lilac turtleneck sweater, and boots. It was quite casual by her standards.

"Is she okay now?"

Jackie pursed her lips. "Um, no. Not really. She has leukaemia so it's always hard."

She silently cursed herself for doing exactly what she hadn't wanted to do: talk about herself. It wasn't as if she was afraid to open up, or even a reserved person – but today was just not the day for it. Broken sleep and fragile emotions were not the best combination for a constructive conversation. To start up a conversation that she was not emotionally capable of handling right now, with a man she barely knew (and not the best talker), was the last thing she'd wanted. She had almost messaged Bucky that morning, that she wouldn't be able to make it to lunch, but Jackie knew if she didn't go, she would only cuddle with her cat and cry all day. It was that kind of a day.

"I'm sorry to hear that,"

"Hmm," was all Jackie could respond with. Since her mother was recuperating that morning, she had strictly banned Jackie from returning to the hospital till at least the evening. Jackie had only left because her uncle had arrived to take her place.

"Do you like animals?" It was the most pathetic conversation-change she'd ever attempted. Bucky fortunately appeared not to care but was wary of whether he could carry this conversation on.

"Yeah, I like cats– and dogs, both,"

"Oh, you should meet my cat, Mephisto – Meph for short,"

"That's an interesting name,"

"Well, he's an interesting cat. Someone recommended the name, and I dunno, it just stuck,"

Bucky merely nodded as he looked outside at the pouring rain, but with the shift in conversation – Jackie felt a weight fall off her shoulder. Even if only slightly. She let out a deep breath.

"How's your – um, wound?"

Bucky frowned as if he hadn't thought of it since he'd left her office two weeks ago, and instinctively touched his chest as if to feel if it was still there. "Fine," he replied curtly.

When their food arrived, Bucky's order of smoked ribs left an enticing smell in the air, leaving Jackie almost regretting her order of panini. Nevertheless, they ate in silence for a few minutes, and as the warm nourishment rushed through her body – she felt instantly rejuvenated.

"I don't think you mean it,"

"Mean what?" Bucky asked over a mouthful of smoked ribs. He ate bizarrely fast.

"I don't think you would ever choose to remember less,"

Bucky gave her a pointed look, as if to judge whether Jackie was unconsciously wandering into an unchartered territory, or if it was by choice. He turned back to his food with a straight expression.

"And you're sure about that?"

"I know it's presumptuous, especially since I don't know you that well. But…"

Jackie paused as she searched for the right words. She knew she had no place to speak on this, but she was fuelled with newfound energy. However, using it to argue on personal feelings, and that too – with Bucky, was not the wisest decision, and she knew it. She had known nothing good would come from her socialising today.

There was a glimmer in Bucky's steel blue eyes, as he waited for her to finish her bold argument, the corner of his lips twitched but his expression didn't soften.

"The reason we feel loss is because of our memories. Without them, we wouldn't know the weight of what we're losing. So as painful as it is to lose something: people, places, a whole world – your memories are a memento of everything you had. Everything you lived through. And I think that's what makes us who we are,"

What had transpired for her to give such a cheesy speech, she couldn't say. But she had let it all out before she could stop herself and now it was too late. Perhaps it would have been better if Bucky simply refuted it harshly (as she partially deserved for intervening in his sentiments) as opposed to the condescending glare that he wore instead. Eager, to distract herself from her own problems – she had confidently charged full speed ahead, and now Jackie had crossed a line.

"Let me guess: next, you're gonna tell me that all those years of HYDRA in my head – that also made me who I am today? That the Winter Soldier can be a blessing in disguise, right doc?"

He wore a small, cynical smirk that gave him an air of mania and intimidation. His expression was still hard as he turned down to his plate and picked up his meal where he left off.

Finally lost on words , Jackie silently cursed herself for revisiting this topic in the first place, when Bucky had obviously swept it away at the start. He had made quite an abrupt, and a dark reach, from her comment, but Jackie couldn't exactly blame him – all things considered. She had no right to suggest how he should feel about his memories – especially given his experience with them. She could have been at home right now, watching Mephisto have a blast tearing up her sofa cushions.

"I would never suggest that because I don't think strength or blessings come from trauma or abuse. I meant our positive memories and experiences. But I was out of line, and I'm really sorry Bucky."

An uncomfortable silence loomed over them, and the traffic congestion outside only added to the air thick with tension.

Bucky didn't answer but his face had softened into gloom, as he continued cleaning up his plate. Jackie turned to her own panini which besides a few bites – was still uneaten. She fiddled with the gold chain on her neck, as she tucked a stray curl behind her ear. Her raven hair was tied in a loose, French braid that almost touched her shoulders – to hide the fact she had meant to wash it today but hadn't found the time.

"I've just heard that before, is all," Bucky cleared his throat, but his voice stayed low. It was slightly warmer. "I wouldn't trade my memories before HYDRA, for the world. But the way it all ended – how everything melted into a white space in my mind…. and on a Wednesday, apparently. One Wednesday you're in one world, and next week you could be years away. You don't even know it. You can't. All those years not knowing which year I wake up in; and now when I finally do – nothing makes any more sense than before. Every day I keep getting further and further away from the life I lived, and it's as if all my good memories are just rotting away. So, it's hard to look back fondly when I'm the only one that still exists,"

Bucky paused to stare at the rain splatters on the window, as they raced each other to the bottom.

"I was dead. Everyone I knew, thought so. Hell, even I thought so. I know they moved on, they had to. And this current world has moved on from them. So, I don't know what happened to everything I left behind. And now it's too late to even ask,"

"What do you want to ask?"

Bucky gave a resigned sigh. "I don't want to know anymore. I mean, I know about … my family but I couldn't search for more. It's … bizarre. Someone's entire life – summed up in a paragraph on some suspicious corner of the internet. That's all that remains, and that too, if you're lucky enough to find it. But it's not just about people. Things like directions to places, cars, and specific food. A notebook containing a letter you barely remember, which you kept under your mattress. Faces, facts and odd recollections that hold all this space, and for what use?"

Resting her elbows on the table, Jackie observed Bucky thoughtfully. There was nothing she could say to him. At least nothing of use. Bucky shifted in his seat, the realisation slowly dawning on him that he'd spoken more than he had intended to. More than ever spoken to her before, perhaps, even collectively. He laid back into his seat. There was a calm to his weariness, almost like a relief. He didn't regret his words; in fact, they were less burdensome, now that he'd heard them aloud. They were just words. And they hung in the air for a while as Jackie picked apart the remnants of her now-cold panini, with a fork. Her hunger had vanished along the journey of their complex conversation. Nevertheless, she slowly continued to eat.

The waiter came by to pick up Bucky's empty plate and offer dessert choices, but they both politely declined. Outside, the rain had slowed down to a drizzle as the sky cleared up, along with the busy roads. When a long time had passed, Jackie felt it was time she broke the silence.

"Are you in touch with any of your family?"

Bucky absentmindedly bit his lip while he twirled a fork smoothly around his fingers.

"No, I mean – yes,"

Jackie gave him inquisitive frown to keep him going along, as she forced herself to take another bite off her plate. Bucky continued with a prolonged sigh.

"I met my niece once. I told her not to tell anyone else. That's all,"

"Really? Your sister's daughter, right?"

"Yeah, Rebecca's. Her name's Margery, and she was pretty freaked out, of course. But she's the only family I have left,"

Jackie gave him a small, sympathetic smile, but Bucky didn't look up to notice.

"You know, maybe you could share the memories you have of your sister, with her. Who knows, you could learn a few things yourself?"

"She's old, Jackie. At least that's what I'm guessing seventy is, nowadays. Even if she told anyone that I'm her uncle, it would just complicate her own life. And Rebecca…" Bucky paused to shift in his seat. The grey sky reflected in his eyes as they followed the cars outside and his face turned solemn. "Rebecca died ten years ago. I can't just suddenly show up and be a part of her daughter's life,"

After briefly pondering over Bucky's words, in a gentle tone, Jackie began again.

"There's no right or wrong option here, but I know if I was in Margery's place, even if it had been thirty years since my mother died -" Jackie reflexively rubbed her outstretched palms on her lap, as she stared down at them. She had to get her words out before the lump in her throat grew larger. "I wouldn't care who you claimed to be. Whether you were fraud, or even if you were real or not. I would want to hear anything and everything about her. Even if I'd heard it all before. Even if I forgot it all the next day. And you said it's your sister's birthday today, I doubt her daughter would have forgotten that. Just knowing something new – even the tiniest thing – means so much when you've lost someone. The way you probably wish you could know more too. And now maybe you can,"

The hint of grey from Bucky's eyes turned back to sea blue when he met her gaze. His face was warm and appreciative, but Jackie couldn't read him enough to figure out the extent to which he believed in her words. Not that it really mattered. After all, she was not trying to convince or teach him. At the end of the day, in every way imaginable – Bucky's way of life would always contrast with hers. And for good reason.

Yet, when it came to Margery – Jackie couldn't help (at least in this vulnerable moment in time) feel a compassion over the stranger's relationship with her passed-mother. Imagining it, mourning it, and trying to avoid living through it. Perhaps motherhood was simply a tender topic for Jackie today. But her own mother had been sick for almost a year now, so maybe it was gradually becoming more and more tender every passing day.

Bucky smiled softly to himself, and Jackie. The weary look he usually wore, now seemed to have become permanently etched into the faded crinkles on the edges of his eyes. It gave him an aura of someone who had seen too much in their life, and his body hadn't been able to catch up to his mind's ageing, but now the race had slowed down. Although, to the passer-by, he didn't look particularly old, and it could be argued that he was still in his prime age, but his demeanour spoke otherwise. The wars he'd been through, didn't leave much physical trace on him – besides the arm, but they could be seen in his eyes and the way he tentatively shook his head at Jackie.

"I don't know," he muttered. His lips curled upwards in an attempt for a grateful smile, but it came across more as a grimace of guilt.

Jackie didn't have any intention of pressuring or even influencing him to change his mind, and the last thing she wanted was to leave him feeling conflicted of his intentions, by her words. She gave him a sincere look of sympathy as she pushed her empty plate aside. Outside, the clouds had parted sending rays of sunshine darting across the wet asphalt. They bounced from the concrete and onto her face, illuminating her bronze skin with a golden glow.

"If you don't want to exist in the past, you have to exist in the future,"

"Thank you, Gandalf. How much do I owe you for this session again?"

Jackie threw her head back laughing from amusement, as sunlight crept over their dining table, casting long shadows on the floor. Even Bucky beamed shyly. For a while, they both enjoyed the comfortable moment between them, after what felt like a tiresome conversation.

"Oh God, one of my clients said the strangest thing this week, and I can't forget it," Jackie rubbed her temple. "They said giving therapy is providing companionship to someone's mind, so therapists are basically prostitutes of the mind,"

"That's an airtight logic, right there," Bucky chuckled, shaking his head.

"I know, it's really opened my eyes," she grinned with amusement. They both gazed down at their empty plates.

"You know, you reminded me of something Sam once told me,"

"About prostitution? Yeah, it's really changed since the 1940's,"

"No," Bucky grinned as he looked outside. His face was softer in the warm glow of the refracted sunshine. "He said – in order to live in this world, and not just survive – but really live; you have to make space for yourself in people's lives, and their hearts."

When Jackie didn't reply right away, Bucky gently laughed to himself. "Of course, I told him he sounded just like my grandmother,"

Jackie passed him a reassuring smile, but she was still absorbing the weight of his – or Sam's actually – words. It wasn't surprising that Sam would say such a thing, but she was still taken aback by their thoughtfulness.

"Sam really has a way with words," she affirmed. "And with everything else he does,"

Bucky nodded, but Jackie observed a discreet shift come across his face. As if he was unsure of how far his trust for Sam, extended. She recalled his past tension with him and decided the subject was probably sensitive, and their problems still ongoing. She definitely didn't want to intervene, or risk disturbing the ease and lightness of their current conversation. She had enjoyed escaping the troubles of her night before, forgetting her apartment needed cleaning, and this brand-new feeling of familiarity with Bucky. They were both less reserved now. Despite its fleetingness, it felt heartening, nonetheless. A wave of warmth passed over her.

"We should probably ask for the bill," Bucky observed. "Do you want to walk?"

Stepping outside, Jackie was greeted by a fresh breeze. The traffic lights seemed more vibrant after the rain, and the colours of the city gleamed more brightly than usual. The downpour had revived the city, and it looked much cleaner and lighter. Every corner and edge was sharper after the rain, and Jackie could feel the crispness of the air in every breath she drew in. There was no denying that Autumn had arrived in full swing. Lost leaves lay soggily in the pavement puddles underneath her feet. The grey clouds had vanished leaving an entrancing blue sky, filled with wispy white swirls. The sunshine fell gently on their path. Despite all the years she'd lived in the city, she was always the first one to feel cold, and although she was dressed warmly, Jackie still instinctively hugged herself, wrapping her blazer around her. A fresh smell of fabric enveloped her; whichever dry-cleaning place Bucky used, were definitely good at their job.

Bucky didn't seem bothered by the chilly air; his gloved hands were tucked away in his jacket pockets.

"So, what do you do with your days – when you're not busy getting stabbed, that is,"

His lips curled upwards momentarily. "Well, it takes up most of my time, but I also work part-time, and visit the library,"

"What work do you do?"

"I teach -" Bucky's phone rang loudly, interrupting him mid-sentence. He answered it with a sceptical look, as if surprised to recall he even had a phone.

"You teach?" Jackie muttered to herself, but Bucky heard her and squinted his eyes at her as a signal to not get carried away with his unfinished statement. He walked a few feet away and Jackie waited politely in her spot to respect his privacy. His call ended in a few seconds and he returned slightly perturbed. Or perhaps this was simply his usual state of being, Jackie wondered – and his wit and relaxation, was a momentous occurrence. Nevertheless, he simply shrugged as they continued walking.

"I teach self-defence to less than a dozen people, at a really run-down gym. It took a while for me – and them – to get used to it, but now it's pretty normal, I suppose. They're pretty quiet,"

Clearly surprised, Jackie had so many questions she wanted to ask but she forced herself to go steady on him.

"You have to give me the address so I can join,"

That drew a heartfelt laugh from Bucky. "No way,"

"What do you mean? Don't you want more students?"

"No, that's exactly what I don't want. Why else would I be working at the most deserted gym in the city?"

"Because it was the only one willing to hire you?"

"Oh, haha. Touché,"

"I'm kidding, but you can't deny me my right to learn self-defence,"

"If it's in my class, then I can," Bucky asserted.

Jackie decided to let him off the hook, and after a brief pause, she questioned: "So, what made you take it up?"

He contemplated before answering, in a lower – more thoughtful tone, than before. "The US Government gives me a monthly allowance – like a retirement pension – probably to stay low and out of everyone's way – so it's not that I'll starve without a job, but I still need the extra money if I want to do anything besides survive."

He paused for a moment, as if he wasn't sure if he did want to do anything besides survive. Jackie couldn't read any inauthenticity in his tone, but he seemed guarded as if he was choosing his words carefully, according to how he wanted to be perceived.

"I tried a few odd jobs here and there, and teaching was probably the last thing I wanted to do, but once I started… it's helped me,"

"How so?"

"Well, most of my combat skills came from H.Y.D.R.A., and all these years I've used them to punch my way through everything – good or bad. Whether I was on the wrong side of the battle, or the right: I've always been a weapon, jumping from one fight to another. There's no denying it's who I am. But teaching self-defence means I'm using H.Y.D.R.A.'s training for a better cause; it's a silent fuck-you to them. For the first time, all this training could help someone, not hurt them. Well, except for whoever's on the receiving end of it,"

Jackie smiled to herself as they made their way through the sidewalk crowds. "Sounds like you're reclaiming your purpose,"

"Yeah well, I mean what else do I have to offer to this world, you know?" Bucky didn't sound melancholy, but he wore a resigned look and half a smile.

"Your worth isn't defined by what you can give to the world, no one's is. You don't have to earn your right to exist,"

It was difficult to tell if Bucky agreed, but he still hummed as a response. His gaze fixated on the traffic as they crossed the road to the other side. Jackie had no idea where they were headed but he walked with a self-determination which she didn't question, happily trailing along. She was in no hurry anyway. However, adjusting to Bucky's pace meant she had to walk a little faster than usual.

"Back in my day, there used to be a cinema there – and I took Steve to see Citizen Kane," he pointed in place of a renovated office building. "It was no Wizard of Oz, of course,"

Jackie smiled. "Growing up, my mom was a huge fan of Casablanca. Did you catch that in the cinema?"

"Oh yeah, it was phenomenal. Really turned the tide for filmmaking,"

For a moment, Jackie was unsure if Bucky's tone was sarcastic, but his countenance was open and light, so she grinned from the reassurance that he really meant it. They walked in silence for a brief moment until they crossed a bus station where a bus had just arrived. Bucky paused tentatively and turned to her.

"Hey, sorry to cut the walk short, but I'm gonna catch this bus. I have to take care of something."

Jackie was taken by surprise, and it showed. It was a bit peculiar for him to walk her to the bus station and then leave her there, without telling her beforehand. She wouldn't have minded the walk if he had just let her know. Maybe he had decided right there and then. Maybe it was the phone call he'd received. Either way, she brushed it aside. Surely, she was probably better off not knowing Bucky's personal affairs.

"Yeah, okay sure. I guess I'll see you around,"

Bucky gave her a warm smile, and there was a shimmer in his eyes, reflecting the passing car lights. Without another word, he leapt onto the bus and was off on his way.

Jackie stood awkwardly in the middle of the sidewalk, which was relatively less crowded than before – now that half of those people had left on the bus. She wasn't even sure if she knew exactly where she was. Bucky's sudden departure felt slightly rude to Jackie, but as she sighed and waved for a cab, she reminded herself to cut him some slack. His social skills needed some polishing, that was all. He must have had a valid excuse anyway, in fact – probably been concerningly serious. Jackie let the thoughts flow out of her mind as she finally caught a cab.

It wasn't until she was inside, that she suddenly felt an overwhelming wave of worry for her mother. Everything that she had purposely tried to escape and forget, caught up to her in a sudden hold of guilt and frozen fear. Jackie hadn't spoken to her since she had left the hospital, and that was hours ago. How could she have forgotten her own mother? All that time she had spent worrying, why hadn't she called? How could she be such a terrible daughter? As Jackie pressed her mother's name on her phone – her inhales became sharper, and her heart raced against time. Her vision turned blurry with tears. The sweat from her palms rubbed onto her phone, and Jackie's body was rigid and tense. She even blocked out the cab driver's repeated questions as to where they were going.

"Hello? Mom?"

"Hey honey, how was your lunch?"

I hope you like this chapter, and thank you for the kind reviews qmione!