Second-last chapter already? Thank you so much for the kind reviews and I hope you enjoy!
Side note: I wrote a short, dystopian/angst Bucky story, if anyone wants to check it out Xx
They finally reached Delacroix Island when the afternoon sun was burning high above them. The bed and breakfast that Sam had reserved for them, was a few blocks away from the gulf restaurant, where the wedding was set to take place. Jackie couldn't wrap her mind over the fact she had actually driven all the way to Delacroix. And arrived in one piece.
Sam wouldn't have been offended if she had missed the wedding, in fact – she had a lingering feeling that she didn't belong here at all, and this was before even meeting anyone. However, although she wasn't close enough to Sam to drive 22 hours to attend his wedding – deep down, Jackie knew the wedding was just an excuse she'd made up to get out of both the city and her stagnant mental state. She could no longer bear the monotony of her routine, and the shadow of grief that followed her everywhere she went.
Once they arrived at the bed and breakfast, Bucky disappeared after unloading their luggage, and Jackie took a nap. When she awoke, the evening sun had dipped low in the sky, and its rays crept through the gap in her curtains. The skyline was far lovelier in Delacroix. There was no pollution and concrete jungle to obstruct the view. Wisps of auburn clouds were scattered across the horizon, and the sun loomed over the shoreline. Jackie could make out the gentle waves of the water, as they reflected the sunset glow. Her stomach growled with hunger.
She hadn't eaten since midday and Jackie was starving. After grabbing a shawarma from a food van across the road, she exercised for half an hour to overcome the soreness from the drive, and then washed off and changed into a navy blue, v-neck, sleeveless jumpsuit. She considered straightening her wet bob of curls, and she had even bought a blow-dryer for the purpose, but at the last second, Jackie couldn't bring herself to do it. Since she could remember, her mother had lamented whenever she meddled with her natural hair texture. While her mother's curls were lusciously thick and voluminous, Jackie's hair was extremely fine and silky. She was grateful to call her hair curly at all. Most days, they were wispy waves at best. The blame lay easily on her absent, white father.
Freshly washed, Jackie scrunched her curls and sprayed her bob with a holding spray, and she was out of the door just as the night had begun settling in.
The beach restaurant across the road, was only a few minutes in walking distance. Jackie could see the fairy lights strung outside the wooden building and numerous cars were parked all along the road. Rest assured; she was at the right destination.
As she walked, she texted Bucky to ask him where he was. Jackie didn't want to risk waking him up in case he was asleep, after all – he could risk arriving a little late to the rehearsal dinner. As the cars rolled in, groups of people huddled together, laughing and sharing jokes. Everyone was dressed vibrantly and in fact, more so than in New Yorker weddings. People of Delacroix were far more open and relaxed. They didn't seem to have a particular style of party wear, and they cheered loudly and talked with vigour. Not caring how they came across to Jackie, as she slowly weaved her way through the crowd and into the vast restaurant.
The front veranda made of polished wood, and rock walls that reflected the lights fixed on the ceiling. People were scattered all across the floor, greeting each other with big hugs and affectionate smiles. A few children ran past Jackie, and she instinctively hugged her black blazer folded over her arm – closer to her chest: feeling vulnerable and alone. The air was moist and cool, and a gentle breeze blew over the water and towards her. Jackie could taste the salt in the air.
After glimpsing a bigger crowd inside the building, she moved towards the backside of the porch, which so far, was scarcely populated with guests. As she explored the terrace, Jackie found herself overlooking the gulf. The back of the restaurant stood over the water, which gently lapped at the submerged stilts. It reflected the warm glow of the fairy lights above, and she could spot the moon over the horizon. The rhythmic music of the waves instantly calmed her nerves.
That's when she heard whispers above her and craning her neck to look upwards at the second-storey balcony, she saw two silhouettes against the dark blue, sky above. Was that Bucky and Sam? Jackie couldn't make out their faces or their words, but she saw the two figures neatly shake hands and then she quickly snuck back to the crowd. The last thing Jackie he wanted to do was eavesdrop on Sam and Bucky – again.
Inside, the restaurant had been decorated and furnished perfectly for the rehearsal dinner. White tables and chairs were arranged in groups, and a colourful array for flowers were hung from the ceiling. An exquisite chandelier was hung in the middle of the room, and bottles of fairy lights were placed in the middle of every table. There must have been over a couple of hundred people, scattered across the room.
Further inside, the restaurant opened up to the back porch, which stood right on top of the water body itself, and Jackie couldn't help feeling utter bliss, gazing out at the dark water ahead. The wooden railing on all three sides, was wrapped delicately in white lilies and strings of miniscule lights. In the middle and furthest edge of the platform, stood a white, flower arch where the wedding ceremony was set to take place tomorrow. As she quickly seated herself on the last fully empty table she could find, Jackie felt a surge of excitement, affection and passionate sentiment, all at once.
It quickly subsided when she recognised a few colleagues from the Department of Veteran Affairs. Jackie bore no ill will towards any of her co-workers, but she really didn't want to be reminded of her time there. Not tonight. It didn't help that she still felt guilty for leaving, as if the work had been a challenge which she had cowardly run from.
Out of the blue and much to Jackie's jittery nerves, Bucky flopped down onto the chair next to her. He wore a black suit and tie, with his hair gelled and combed back, with a freshly shaved face. He was almost difficult to recognise. Jackie had to admit, he cleaned up well.
"What?" he questioned her gaze accusingly.
"Nothing, I'm just admiring your good looks,"
As expected, Bucky shot Jackie a pointed frown and turned back to take in the crowd.
"Did you get Sam a wedding present?"
Jackie fought the urge to reply: "I am the wedding present", because she knew it was her flaring nerves that were pushing her on edge, and Bucky was rarely in the mood for her lame humour.
"Yeah, I bought him an Anglo-Indian mosaic tray," Jackie pronounced proudly. "You?"
"I bought him a knife-set,"
Bucky was clearly having second thoughts over his choice of gift as his gaze flickered over the room, his lips pursed tightly.
"I'm sure Sam won't read into it," she reassured him as she patted his gloved hand.
"It wasn't a threat; I've seen his knife-throwing skills and he could use some practice. Maybe while he's cooking."
Bucky sounded genuinely concerned, and she didn't know how she could contribute any further to the conversation, so Jackie let it lie by distracting him. "Look, it's them!"
Sure enough, Sam had entered the room and a crowd gathered around him instantaneously. He looked handsome as ever, in a grey and white suit and his fiancé at his arm. Jackie was mesmerised by the couple.
Under the soft lighting, the woman's dark skin possessed an ethereal glow. She wore a sage green, sleeveless dress with a plunging neckline, that draped over her figure elegantly and beautifully complimenting her curves. She was shorter than Jackie, and her shoulders were broad and sturdy. Her hair was wrapped in an elaborate braid around her head, and it fell gracefully down her shoulder. She beamed cheerfully, as she greeted guests with compassionate embraces.
Jackie could feel the respect and adoration exuding within their circle. Not simply the joy on Sam and his fiancé's body language, but the warmth and admiration with which everyone saw them. It was no secret that Sam was his community's most beloved. People flocked to hug him and wish him well, and unlike the crowd from his party in New York, everyone here carried themselves with kind-hearted sincerity. There were no air of pretence, guise, or selfish motives. These people were his home.
"You look like you're going to cry," Bucky noted.
"Well, I'm not," after a pause Jackie sighed with a subtle grin: "I'm just sad that Sam's taken,"
"You're not his type,"
"You don't know that!" Jackie's joke had been dampened by Bucky's dry mood, as usual.
"I know enough," Bucky poured champagne from the bottle on their table, into his glass.
"About HYDRA or whatever, but this is different. Please don't tell me you ran a background check on his fiancé too,"
Bucky didn't meet her eyes, as he nonchalantly sipped his champagne with a blank expression. His silence said enough.
" Bucky…"
Bucky simply shrugged and Jackie resigned back into her seat with a shake of her head.
The celebration began soon after, with Sarah – Sam's sister kicking off the toasts and speeches. They brought tears to Jackie's eyes, and she reached out to touch Bucky's arm for emotional comfort, only to find that he had disappeared for more drinks. Typical.
As the drinking commenced – guests got louder, and the speeches got more emphatic and humorous. Most of them were inside jokes which went over Jackie's head, but some she really enjoyed. Sam beamed from ear to ear, turning a deep shade of red at the embarrassment of it all. The empty seats at her table were soon occupied by Sam's elderly neighbours, but eventually – Bucky reluctantly dropped back into his chair. Jackie suddenly noticed he had been pushed down from his shoulders, by none other than Sarah Wilson.
"Found this one trying to sneak out with a bottle of champagne. Can you keep an eye on him?" she asked Jackie. Her eyes were twinkling with amusement as she smirked her way. Jackie forced her mouth to close as she silently nodded, shooting rolling-eyed Bucky, a wide-eyed warning.
Sarah laughed warmly as she embraced Jackie who had stood up to greet her. She wore a gold, one-shoulder, satin dress. Her braids fell intricately down her back and Jackie was suddenly taken aback with Sarah's perfume. It was Chanel, and the same one that Jackie's mother had adored. She did her best to keep a straight face as emotions flooded her soul. Sarah asked Jackie some questions which Jackie forgot as soon as she'd answered them, but they happily chatted together for a few minutes before Sarah swept away with the crowds. Jackie dropped down on her chair flustered and bewildered.
Dinner consisted of a delicious assortment of seafood: ranging from lobsters to fried fish and prawns. Jackie devoured each bite and drank more champagne than she should have. She didn't intend to, but the cosy atmosphere and celebratory air – coupled with the memory of Sarah's perfume and Jackie's jittery nerves at being in a new town, got the best of her. Bucky had already quietly disappeared in the crowd of guests, leaving her alone in a room full of hundreds of strangers.
The party was still in full swing when Jackie decided to call it a night, around 10.30pm. She waved to Sam from afar, because it was useless trying to approach him when he was always surrounded by a throng of people. But he caught sight of her and waved back with a grin, nudging his fiancé gently and gesturing towards Jackie from afar. She too, waved at her with a kind smile.
Walking back to her hotel, Jackie thanked her lucky stars that she wasn't black-out drunk. She felt completely sober, except for the weariness and a lingering mind-fog. That was probably a remnant of the car journey to Delacroix, but she couldn't wait to be back in bed. Hopefully, she wouldn't sleep in too late the next morning.
She passed the row of cars parked along the road and she could see her hotel in the dark ahead of her. What Jackie didn't see was a car rolling in ahead from the corner.
When it's a piercing stream of yellow headlights blinded her vision, she instinctively stumbled sideways, to avoid getting hit by the car. Her brain was clouded with the white light and Jackie couldn't comprehend that she was on the sidewalk… and the car was on the road – at quite a distance. Her heel got caught between the concrete cracks, and she tripped into a thorny bush that covered the rainwater drain.
There was a loud knock-on Bucky's door. His body went rigid, as it usually did with door knocks, even though he'd come to realise that most of the time – they were harmless. Most of the time. Still, he had enough experience to know that no one knocked on his door unless there was a very good reason. There was only one instance when it had been on accident, and to this day – Bucky had his doubt over whether the delivery boy that he had let go with a terrifying warning, truly got the address wrong, or was a covert spy. You could never be too certain. Anyway, he still had the scars from his last disgraceful fiasco at the subway station. The failure haunted him ruthlessly.
Nevertheless, he pulled out a large knife and silently approached the door. He cast a swift glance into the peephole and his body immediately relaxed with an exasperated sigh. Bucky unlocked the door.
In front of him, stood a very worn-out Jackie. But she didn't look the same as how he'd left her at the dinner. Her deep-blue jumpsuit was ripped at the knee and streaked with mud on one side. Both her ankles were also drenched in sludge. She still clutched her blazer, tightly in one hand and her muddy heels in another.
"What happened?"
Jackie answered by shooting him an embarrassed-yet-scornful look, while she stood uncomfortably at the door. "I need your first aid kit," Bucky could smell the champagne on her breath.
"How do you know I have one?"
"Because I know."
"Can't argue with that logic," he parted his door open and let her in his room. It was meticulously clean, just like a brand-new hotel room, and apart from the zipped duffel bag in the corner, and his black coat hanging neatly from his closet – the room was untouched.
And of course, the disassembled gun laid out on the bed.
"Seriously?" Jackie stared at the gun apprehensively, as if this one would also suddenly assemble itself, and rise up with an invisible force to shoot her in the face. She unconsciously turned her shoulder towards it as she walked across the room. Drunk-Jackie would rather risk getting shot in the shoulder than in the front.
"What happened?" Bucky asked again, as he pulled out a small rolled-up plastic bag from his duffel. It consisted of the common components such as gauze, rubbing alcohol, cotton swabs, saline solution, gloves, antiseptic wipes etc. And tweezers to pull out bullets. The usual.
"I fell into a ditch," Jackie stated coolly, as she took the bag from Bucky. He didn't mean to laugh, but he let out an uncouth snort as he stared at the ground, grinning to himself. Jackie didn't bother paying him any attention, since she wasn't in the mood to defend herself. All she wanted now was a cold shower and to forget the shameful incident altogether.
In the light of the room, it was clear to see that the fall had left her with a bloody knee, and a few minor cuts on her arm. Her elbow was also scraped from the fall. But most importantly, Jackie's beloved jumpsuit was torn.
Mumbling 'thanks' on her way out, she staggered out of the room and went to her own, across the hall. Bucky could only shake his head and go back to practicing assembling his gun in record time.
After a cold shower that sobered her right up, Jackie cleaned and tended to her scrapes and bruises. So much for her self-care vacation from the city. Her dress for the wedding tomorrow wouldn't hide her bandaged knee and arms. Thankfully, she'd bought a different pair of heels for the day, so maybe Jackie could clean these ones later.
Once out of the shower, she took a pill for her headache, which left her feeling more soothed. Her brain fog had lessened, and the pain in her knee had also dulled. She walked out in her padded slippers, to find the vending machine.
Some of the guests had returned, and in their dazzling dresses and polished suits, they laughed merrily as they made their way to their rooms. Each person and group, caught in their own blissful world and still reeling from the joy of the party.
Reaching the veranda, Jackie was overcome with a sudden urge to settle on the stairs that led to the flower garden below. It was surrounded on all four sides by the hotel building, and it was overlooked by every balcony on every floor. There was a fountain in the middle, and a gentle stream of water poured out from the top. Colourful flower bushes neatly encircled the fountain.
Jackie's body felt sore again, and a slight ache travelled over her limbs. She wasn't sure if it was from the fall, or because she felt strangely overwhelmed with emotions that she couldn't describe. All she knew was that she didn't want to go back to her empty room, with such a frazzled mind and heart.
She was exhausted from thinking and perhaps that was why Jackie had drunk so much champagne at the dinner. Getting drunk was something she never indulged in, back home. However, being away from New York felt lonely and fascinatingly free at the same time. Here, she was no longer a therapist, or someone who'd lost a mother. Here, she was simply a stranger, and she could get away with making bad decisions. And then return to her simple life back in New York, taking up her old role once more, like a mechanical robot.
Across the garden, Jackie saw a family making their way up the stairs. The parents were pulling their son along, and in the distance, Jackie could tell he was younger than ten. The boy held each of his parent's hand and they swung him up the stairs with each step. His colourful laugh echoed across the building.
Jackie's thoughts drifted towards her own father, whom she had never met.
When she was a senior in high school, Jackie had unsuccessfully searched for him – with only a name to go by. But her three-month search only left her with dead ends. Enraged and disappointed, she'd given up and consoled herself that it was ultimately best that he remained unknown and never became a part of her life, ever again.
However, after her mother's death, Jackie found herself thinking of him often, wondering who he was and what kind of life he had lived all these years. Her thoughts were interrupted by a figure appearing at her staircase step
"Jesus, don't creep up on me like that,"
"It's not my fault your hearing is impaired from all your garbage music,"
"You know, Bucky, I liked you better when you didn't have my dead grandfather's sense of humour. God rest his soul,"
"You never did explain how you happened to fall in a ditch," he retorted innocently. But he handed her a box of orange juice, from the vending machine that Jackie had forgotten she was searching for.
She pursed her lips tightly and sipped the juice. They sat in silence for a long minute, clear moonlight shining down on them and crickets chirping in the garden. The last of the guests from Sam's dinner, made their way up to their rooms.
"Hey, I have to tell you something,"
Bucky instinctively scrunched his face as if he expected the conversation to go downhill as soon as Jackie had finished her sentence. But his face opened up again, rather tentatively. Jackie's chest felt heavier, with the rising apprehension, but she was aware that right now – in her state of partial-sobriety and perplexing emotions, she at least had the vulnerability to let go of one, pestering thought.
"The night of the attack on S.H.I.E.L.D., I went to the nearest hospital to find you, and I did – in a way. I saw your fight with Sam. And Sam knows."
There was no way to give her proclamation a proper ending and it came out blunter than Jackie had intended. She could add an apology, but in her cloudy state of mind, she debated if she was really sorry. After all, she hadn't intended to eavesdrop, but neither was she the one who had spoken daggers at Sam, and vice versa.
Jackie's brain only felt fuzzier, as she stretched her aching leg. Her blue pyjama pants were rolled above her knees, and she wore a faded, peach university t-shirt. Her comfiest sleepwear. She should have just gone to bed.
Bucky was quiet for a few seconds, as his mind calculated. In a low whisper, he finally replied: "So, what, you're stalking me now?"
She smiled softly. "I guess I learnt from the best," Maybe this was her apology, even though she wasn't sure exactly what she was apologising for. Perhaps everything, altogether. All at once.
There was a small pause after which Bucky remarked boldly: "Well, you can't go around following me, Jackie. You know you're too young for me,"
Jackie let out a relieved laugh, which immediately dulled the emotional and physical pain that coursed through her body.
Beside her, Bucky grinned softly as he looked down at his feet. There was a twinkle in his eyes as he flexed his metal hand over his leg. His white dress shirt was untucked over his dress pants. It wasn't clear what was really going on in his head, and he seemed secretly quite far away in his mind, but Jackie was too weary to try and figure it out.
"Right, thanks for the reminder,"
It dawned on her that Bucky had let the conversation slide away on purpose. He didn't want to discuss that night with her, and that was understandable. It was distressing and he didn't exactly owe her an explanation. The fight had been between Sam and him, despite the discomfort it had brought on Jackie. It was soothingly peaceful to not have to delve into the upsetting night, once again. It vanished into the past once more.
It was replaced by a sudden revelation, which befell Jackie, and before she could stop herself from considering the million reasons it was a bad idea, she blurted out:
"Can you find someone for me?"
Bucky frowned for a second. "Just because I'm not interested doesn't mean I -"
"No, no, not like that!"
The thought of Bucky finding her a romantic partner was well-beyond even Jackie's imagination. She shook her head at the absolute bizarreness of the idea. The last date she'd been on, had been back in September, before her mother's passing. The memory felt like lightyears away. It was technically the second date with the same guy, but then her mother's health had quickly deteriorated, and Jackie had lost the time for anything and anyone. Including herself.
She definitely wasn't looking to get back into the race again. And especially not with Bucky's help. Usually, the people he knew were either killing or getting killed. Jackie was lucky to have made it this far, alive.
"I meant; can you track someone down?"
Bucky's attention was back, but his expression turned reflective, as he looked down at the shadows in the garden. His previously combed hair fell in soft waves over his forehead, in the humid warmth of the island.
"I only have a name – Riley Penn. He worked for the Metropolitan Construction Company, in Philadelphia, back in '97. I don't know anything else,"
That much was true, Jackie truly didn't know much else about her father. Bucky passed her a curious look, as if he was debating over her request. His lips were pursed tight, and his gaze was dark and pensive. Jackie could feel his eyes burning a hole in her head, so to keep herself from showing any hint of weakness, she kept her gaze fixed straight ahead and her head held high.
"Okay."
And that was the end of it.