November stretched on for an eternity, dry and uneventful. Winter set in quietly, but the sunny afternoons were still warm. Some days, Jackie was too grief-stricken to get out of bed in the morning, and on other days, she would meet up with her friends for lunch. Against all odds, life carried on.
Every now and then, Jackie and Sam would keep in touch over texts. Sam had been offered a position at S.W.O.R.D. – which was another defence company Jackie knew nothing of, but she was delighted for him, just the same. According to the news, a few dozen ex-S.H.I.E.L.D. members had been arrested with affiliations to a resurgent offshoot of HYDRA. But that hadn't been all.
Toppling S.H.I.E.L.D., had shined light on the terrorist regime, and an international investigation was underway to expose its divisions across multiple countries. Usually hiding under the criminal justice system and organisations like S.H.I.E.L.D. The matter was far more serious than what anyone had previously suspected, with the roots of the regime firmly planted in various state and nonstate actors. Cutting off HYDRA's US head in the past, had only caused it to expand across the world.
Two nights after the explosion, Bucky had finally replied to Jackie's multiple messages and calls with a blunt, "I'm fine". Since it came after she had witnessed his fight with Sam, Jackie's reservation hadn't allowed her to say anything further, and thus – she hadn't heard from him again, since then.
That was, until the first weekend in December.
Jackie made herself a hot cocoa, to enjoy a slow Sunday in with Mephisto. She had a couple of recipes she wanted to try, maybe watch a movie. She'd spent most of the morning cleaning up the apartment, doing laundry, and rearranging furniture. Around noon, Bucky called.
Her memory of the night of the explosion had dulled with time. It no longer stirred any fear or turmoil within her. But seeing his name flash on her phone screen, sent an abrupt and unconscious shiver down Jackie's spine.
"Hey Jackie,"
"Hi Bucky,"
"How've you been?" his tone seemed relaxed, and at ease. But Jackie could never be sure. There must be a reason he was reaching out to her after all this time. It had been almost two months since they last spoke at her mother's funeral.
"I'm alright, and what about you?"
"Listen, I need a favour,"
Jackie sighed but felt no surprise. "If you're bleeding out again -"
"No, it's not that kind of a favour," He hesitated.
Gazing out of her apartment window, at the rolling white clouds, and bright blue skies, she gave in to her curiosity.
After a train ride to New Jersey and an uber ride later, Jackie found herself across the road from an elegant, Tuscany-style, suburban home. It stretched over a dozen acres of land, with the lush forest for a backyard, and separated by the neighbouring houses down the road, with woodland between them. A pebbled pathway led to the entrance of the home, where flowers of various types, bloomed in colour. The second-floor windows were made of stained glass, that shone beautifully was the afternoon sunlight reflected off it. The grey stone pillars set a stunning contrast with the beige walls and the grey-tiled, arched roof. A handful of cars were parked in the wooden shed next to the house, and others continued to arrive – leaving guests at the lavish doors of the upscale home.
Jackie let out a low whistle as she dug her hands deep into the pockets of her dark, grey coat – the same one she had worn the night of Sam's party. Underneath, she wore crew-neck, dark green sweater, grey mini-skirt and black tights.
"Intimidating, isn't it?"
"Jesus, Bucky! You scared the hell out of me, don't do that,"
Bucky didn't seem too apologetic. He wore the same black coat he wore to Jackie's mother's funeral, paired with a blue pullover, and black pants. He had a faded scar on his jaw and dark circles under his eyes. Besides that, he looked nice.
"How long have you been here?"
"In the shadows? I don't know, maybe half an hour,"
Jackie furrowed her brows and passed him a concerning look which he didn't bother noticing as his gaze scanned over the guests passing by, and flickered across his surroundings, unnervingly. It was as if he was working undercover.
Although the heat of Sam and Bucky's fight had long since lost its sting, and Jackie no longer remembered the cruel words passed between the two men – she couldn't help feeling a discomfort churn in her stomach, recalling the last time she saw Bucky. The circumstances had been turbulent, to say the least.
However, Bucky had no knowledge of that, so unless she wanted to confront him (which she really didn't), Jackie was obliged to carry on their interactions as naturally, and normally as possible. Yet, she had a gnawing suspicion that she could hold no match against Bucky's unrelenting suspicion – if it ever did arise. In fact, she would hardly be surprised if he had seen her that night, hiding in the shadows. The possibility had crossed her mind in the past too.
However, for the time being, the house party ahead of him seemed to have caught Bucky's attention entirely, and he barely noticed Jackie besides him.
"So, did you just call me all the way from New York, to stare at this house together? I mean, it's not the worst date idea,"
"This isn't a date," Bucky didn't miss a beat. His eyes still fixed on the cars pooling in.
"Would it kill you to lighten up for a minute?"
"Probably,"
The stoic expression on his face told Jackie that she wasn't going to get anywhere by mocking Bucky, so she let it go. Even if only for the time being. She was aware he owed her, and he knew it too.
Bucky straightened up and walked towards the house with an air of assurance, which Jackie sensed wasn't truly real, as she followed behind.
The interior of the house was equally – if not more – lavish than the outside. Wooden beams covered the high-ceilings, and the beautiful marble floor was decorated with intricately woven carpets. The furniture was an assortment of dark mahogany and stone. Abstract paintings the size of Jackie, hung from the walls.
"Hey there," a well-dressed man in his early forties, walked towards them, smiling. As he drew closer, his eyes widened and his expression shifted to concern, with he began to recognise Bucky. He stopped a few feet away from them. "No," was all he managed to mutter.
"I'm here to visit Margery," Bucky stated. His lips were tightly pursed as was his jaw, and Jackie felt as though she heard his voice waver, which had never happened before. "I was told she was moved here,"
"Yes, she had a minor stroke, and now lives with us -"
"Who's us?" Bucky interjected.
"Margery is my mother-in-law, and she told my wife about you, but I'm sorry, you're not welcome here,"
If the words hurt Bucky, he didn't show it. His face was firm and passive. He didn't even blink. Jackie lightly shifted on her feet and said nothing. The air was thick with tension, and the man seemed as if he was finding it hard to mask his fear, with defensive assurance. He didn't meet Bucky's gaze.
Just as Bucky opened his mouth to speak, a young girl, barely six – rushed through the door, bumping into his leg, face-first. She wore a princess tiara and a lilac ballerina tutu. She giggled, her light blue eyes sparkling with mischief, as she looked up at Bucky and proclaimed "Sorry!"
As if on command, the man quickly swept in and pulled her away by the arm. "Go greet the guests honey," he ordered sweetly, and the young girl ran away, waving behind at Jackie and Bucky. Her blond hair flying behind her.
Frazzled, Bucky quickly collected his thoughts to speak once more, but the man turned to them with urgency and desperation.
"Look, it's my daughter's birthday party, okay? I have guests to entertain, I can't have you loitering around. Especially after…" the man's eyes accidentally met Bucky's, and he paused – reluctant to complete his sentence. His voice wavered as his gaze anxiously darted towards the sound of laughter from the living room. "Especially after the attack. It's just not safe and Margery can't handle this,"
Bucky didn't reply, but he also didn't move. His steel blue eyes were fixed on the man in front of him, and his body was rigid. He appeared much taller than the man.
It became clear that the man couldn't ensure that Bucky left his house, so without awaiting a response from either of them, he manoeuvred past them and disappeared into the various hallways, eager to have them out of his sight and mind.
Jackie turned towards Bucky, tentatively. Was this it? A part of her doubted it. But she had witnessed a personal moment for him and didn't want to add to the discomfort, with her presence. She could almost feel him regretting calling her today. Jackie reminded herself to not jump to conclusions just yet.
With a stern stare at his surroundings, Bucky disappeared into a hallway. Jackie sighed and trailed along. Of course, they weren't leaving. When did Bucky ever do as he was told?
Gliding swiftly up the stairs, they managed to avoid encountering anyone else as Bucky cautiously moved through the refined rooms.
"If you were born in this century, you would have been seriously rich," Jackie whispered to Bucky.
He didn't respond but as his eyes darted across the house, it was apparent that he realised the same.
"What if she's downstairs at the party?"
"No. These are the kind of folks who lock up their elderly,"
"Ouch," Jackie whispered under her breath.
They stopped at a window that looked out at the backyard.
In the middle of the enormous garden stood three white tables, holding various food dishes. Matching white chairs with pink ribbons were placed across the lawn, and dozens of people stood around them, conversing happily as children ran giddily through them. A few feet away from the tables, stood a barbecue grill that was lit up and there was a huge pile of gift boxes in the opposite corner. The boundary of the garden was surrounded by a forest, and a blossoming flower bed merged the back patio with the garden. Jackie caught sight of the man who had spoken to them before. Sombre, Bucky walked off and Jackie followed behind.
After navigating through passageways, Bucky stopped suddenly in front of a wall. He ran his hand over it gently, pressing his ear to it. Jackie nervously looked around to make sure no one else witnessed the scene.
"Here," he muttered to himself. He turned to find a bewildered Jackie. She blinked a couple of times but didn't comment. Bucky approached the door of the room.
"Can you keep a watch out; in case anyone comes?"
"What do I say?" Jackie whispered.
"Just say you're Margery's distant niece,"
"That would never work!"
"Why not?"
"In case you haven't noticed from the party: your whole family is white,"
Bucky simply shook his head and knocked lightly on the door. A soft "come in" came through the door, and Bucky nodded at Jackie – whispering "thank you" to her and snuck inside.
Jackie sighed as she bit her lip, her mind skimming over all the endless ways things could go wrong.
However, things didn't go wrong. No one came to the upper floor, much less to their hallway. Jackie could scarcely here anyone in the house, and silence ensued. Outside, the guests sang happy birthday, clapping cheerfully. Their celebration was muffled through the walls of the empty house and sounded all the more eerie when it was heard inside.
For the next fifteen minutes, Jackie answered a few emails, keeping an ear out for the sound of footsteps. She then walked through the hall, observing the pictures that hung from the walls. She didn't know what Margery looked like, but Jackie noticed how there was a recurring face of a woman, in every picture.
The oldest, most worn out picture, was one of a man standing dutifully behind a woman seated gracefully on a sofa, her legs crossed and her eyes full of life. The couple both seemed to be in their thirties. Next to the woman, stood a boy and a girl – both young and joyful.
The picture must have been at least fifty years old. Jackie couldn't explain why she had gravitated towards it but then she realised the woman bore a resemblance to Bucky.
The door squeaked open, and Bucky softly snuck out of the room, closing it behind him. He didn't meet Jackie's gaze but quietly approached the picture she had been entranced by.
Something moved in his face, but Jackie couldn't tell what it was. Emotions flickered across his expression, but none of them stayed long enough to be identified or named. He held the delicate and small frame in his hand, staring at it for a few long moments, his metal hand clenched and gloved by his side. His jaw pressed tightly, and his eyes dark. Then he softly placed it back on the wall and walked off.
Jackie followed behind.
Once safely outside, Bucky's stiff posture loosened up and he seemed far more relaxed, as the two of them walked down the street quietly.
"Is Margery alright?" Jackie questioned tentatively.
"No, not really," Bucky replied casually. He bit the inside of his cheek as he stared at the ground. "Her health has improved since the stroke. But she's having some memory problems and of course – her family's treating her like a vegetable,"
Bucky emphasized the last part bitterly, but he paused to recollect himself.
"She's physically much stronger than they think. She's capable of moving around the house and attending their parties or whatever,"
Jackie looked down at her boots and stayed silent.
"Anyway," Bucky continued in a low tone. "I just wanted to say goodbye properly, it's probably best I don't visit again,"
"What do you mean? You're not going to keep in touch with her anymore?"
Bucky sighed as he looked up. "It's for the best,"
Jackie pursed her lips, understanding now why Bucky's visit had been so short-lived. They'd come all the way to New Jersey for these precious 20 minutes. They were priceless. Abruptly losing contact with his loved ones, was a concept Bucky was familiar with. He never wanted to put anyone else through it again.
Jackie wanted to argue and reassure him that he shouldn't cut Margery off. He could continue occasionally sneaking into the house to meet his niece. They could share fond memories of Rebecca and reminisce about their shared love. Bucky could finally, as Sam had reproached him – live in this world, instead of running from it.
Nevertheless, Jackie didn't interfere. She hardly wanted to push Bucky the wrong way when he was already at a low point, and she realised how often she felt the need to walk on eggshells around him. Wary of touching a nerve or causing him to clam up. Jackie's experience with therapy had taught her how to easily do just that, but at the end of the day – Bucky wasn't her patient, so why did she? She quickly pushed the thought out of her mind. Jackie was certainly being unreasonable, right?
As they walked through the suburban street, Jackie took in the houses. Each of them was grand and spaced out from one another. Beautiful front gardens and old trees loomed over the road, and it was clear that the homes belonged to wealthy families.
"If were born in the past thirty years, who do you think you would be?"
It was a nonsensical question, but Bucky carefully pondered over his answer. After a long moment, he answered: "Probably a teacher,"
"Really?"
"Not a schoolteacher, but maybe a physics professor at some university. If I had the qualifications for it. Get a dog, and live somewhere near the sea, I think,"
"Hmm," Jackie pondered over his answer. She hadn't imagined it to be his profession of choice, but then again – she hadn't imagined anything of the sort.
"Who do you think you would be if you were in the 1930's?"
"Well," she considered her options for a moment. "Therapy wasn't very popular back then…"
"Nope,"
"So, I guess I'd be a doctor,"
Bucky nodded with a spark in his eye. "If given a choice, would you join the army?"
"Ha," Jackie countered immediately. "Most definitely not,"
"You say that now, but I'm telling you, public opinion was strongly in support of the army back then. Military propaganda plays a part, but when you're living through a world war, society becomes unified towards a common threat. You either kill or get killed,"
"And yet, your sister was part of the anti-war movement,"
The comment caught Bucky by surprise, but he softly smiled as he reminisced.
"Yeah, well… she lived by her own rules. She wasn't a fascist or Nazi supporter, but her student group was convinced that the government was abusing its soldiers and ignoring the fascist movements at home. And what not. According to Margery, my loss – I mean, disappearance – only reinforced her beliefs even more," Bucky's voice was softer now as he gazed calmly ahead.
"Are you saying you secretly helped the anti-war movement?" Jackie lightly teased.
Bucky smiled. "I suppose I did. Against my own will, too,"
They reached the main road and caught a cab to the subway. They spoke rarely, each submerged in their own world of thoughts. On the subway, Bucky made sure to stand at the very end – least populated section. Jackie stared out at the view of the metropolitan ahead. The skyline was painted in glorious hues of orange, as the sun swooped lower onto the horizon.
"Hey, why'd you ask me to accompany you today?"
Bucky responded with a subdued smile. "I was wondering when you'd ask that, I thought it would be on call,"
Jackie didn't reply, instead giving him an anticipating stare. Bucky sighed.
"Believe it or not: everything went more or less, according to my prediction. But I just figured, having you around could somehow ease the tension. Maybe make me look less threatening, I guess…"
"You called me to make yourself look more normal, by showing how you have a friend?"
Bucky gave a defeated sigh; his countenance bore a guilty look. "Yeah, basically. Look, I'm really sorry for using you like that, and I should have explained. It didn't work out anyway,"
Jackie found herself almost smiling from amusement, over the absurdity of it all. And perhaps also at Bucky's confession.
"I kind of figured, since you wouldn't have called out of the blue, unless you were in a crisis,"
Bucky huffed. "I promise that the next time I call you, it wouldn't be to use you,"
"What an honour," Jackie muttered, sarcastically rolling her eyes as she turned back to the subway window.
For a long while, there was silence between them. Apart from maybe the rumbling of Jackie's stomach. She knew she should have eaten lunch before coming. The rhythm of the subway train was the only sound to be heard and a drowsy comfort encompassed the atmosphere.
"Will you spend Christmas with your uncle – Benjamin, was it?"
Snapped out of her reverie, Jackie turned back to Bucky absentmindedly. "Yeah, Benji. But no. Both his children live in Florida so he's visiting them for Christmas. I think he really wants to move out there himself,"
Jackie smiled at the thought of her uncle in Bermuda shorts and a sun hat, finally united with his family. Like Jackie, he too, loved the warm weather.
Jackie wasn't too fond of Christmas. It was cold and dreary, and markets were always congested. She always felt the enthusiasm for the holiday was overrated and almost forced. Easter was a holiday she could appreciate. Chocolates and rabbits. No pointless theatrics or crowds.
However, Jackie had always spent Christmas with her mother. And her uncle – if he happened to be the city, that is. A few years ago, all three of them had flown out to Florida together, to spend Christmas with her cousins and although it had been exciting, Jackie always enjoyed the quiet Christmas at home, far more.
Her mother would invite her over for a few days, or she'd drop by at Jackie's apartment, and they would bake and cook, and watch trashy TV together. Sometimes, her mother would bring her best friend Leena, who was a widow – along, and the three of them would spend their days lounging around and playing board games. Through unpleasant experiences at clubs and parties, Jackie had quickly realised that Christmas celebrations were not to her place to be. At home, there was never any pressure to socialise or decorate, or hold elaborate parties. Jackie loved those kinds of Christmas' most of all.
Jackie jolted out of her daze once more, to realise the conversation had ended after her response.
"What about you? Any plans for the big day?"
Bucky gazed down at his shoes from where he stood in front of her. His fingers loosely gripping the subway handle.
"Well, Sam's sister had invited me to spend Christmas with them in Louisiana… but uh, it's safe to say that invitation has been withdrawn,"
Jackie's stomach did a somersault at the mention of Sam's name, and guilt crept up her spine. Simply for seeing what she had. She kept her gaze averted from Bucky as she furrowed her brows casually.
"Everything okay?"
"Yeah," Bucky replied bluntly and his eyes on the floor. He ended the conversation there, and they rode the rest of the train journey in weary silence.
Thanks for the reviews and I hope you enjoy this chapter too. The next one was really fun to write, so I'm excited to upload that soon. Let me know what you think so far xx