The next morning, Jackie's headache had subsided, and she felt refreshed after a night of deep sleep. Her knee still needed a bandage over it, and she had a lingering concern over how she would hide it during the wedding. She pushed the thought out of her mind for the morning.

After a heavy breakfast of waffles, from a diner a couple of blocks away, Jackie walked the shoreline. Seagulls fluttered in the sky above, and fishing boats floated far in the distance. The waves refracted the warm sunlight into a shimmering mist above the water, and while resting on the docks, Jackie dipped her feet into the cold water. The air was serene and pure. A breeze blew through her curls and rippled through her yellow sundress. She could hear the muffled conversations of people nearby; fishermen probably, but she was too comfortable to pay heed to them.

Lying back onto the dock, with her calves submerged in the crystal-clear water, Jackie could feel her worries seep through the wooden planks underneath; and into the water – where they sunk deep down, settling on the riverbed.

Everything was warm and everything was good. There was no hurry or commotion, nor any pain or worry.

Jackie felt more at home than she had ever felt in a long while.

When the sun crept higher in the sky and her skin started prickling from the heat, she left the water to explore the town. Walking through the empty roads, across shops and restaurants; houses and parks, Jackie realised the intimacy of the town.

It was secluded and protected from the outside world. The fast-paced, chaotic world of ruthless capitalism: business conglomerates and franchises upon franchises of commercial services. No one here seemed to work for luxuries or social status, but instead, they lived for the day, not knowing what came tomorrow. If Jackie thought back, it hadn't even been a decade since the last hurricane hit the island, and the resilience, pride, and unity of the town shone from its people.

They were compassionate, strong and supportive, and although wary of strangers such as Jackie herself – in their secluded community, she felt sure of their hospitality, honest and righteousness. They were good people and there was no doubt that Sam belonged to them. It seemed no matter how far she went on vacation, Jackie's habit for psychoanalysis never really stayed in the confines of her beloved therapy office.

When Bucky texted her asking if she wanted to grab lunch, Jackie's stomach immediately growled on command, so she eagerly met him at a seafood restaurant – where they ate lobsters and drank beer. She tried her best to keep her appetite for the wedding, but she knew herself well enough to know it would be back. When their food was finished and the bill and tip was paid, Bucky and her walked back to their hotel together. After a long, comfortable silence, Bucky piped up:

"Oh, I found Riley Penn, like you asked."

"What?"

Jackie's heart dropped into her stomach – which was already full of lobster and had no space for her heart.

She hadn't expected Bucky to have the answer in less than 24 hours. In fact, she hadn't even been thinking clearly at all, last night. Moreover, she'd forgotten her request when her sobriety returned in the morning.

Of course, Bucky knew that. And of course, he could track anyone down, even from hundreds of miles away and on vacation. However, Jackie had spent her entire life not knowing anything about her absent father, and she began regretting asking the favour from him, in the first place.

Whatever Bucky were to (probably nonchalantly) say next, would upturn her entire life. Her lifelong perspective could be shifted forevermore. Surely, Jackie was not ready for that. No, she definitely wasn't. She couldn't be. Not now and not ever. Ever. Ever. Ever. It was easier to continue living in the dark. Tell herself stories as she had done as a child, about who her father was and why he never returned to her. Heroic stories when she was younger. Villainous stories when she got older. Stories that she had conjured up herself, nonetheless. But now, Bucky was offering her facts. True, hard, cold facts.

He sensed her apprehension, so he kept quiet, waiting for her to nudge him on.

"Hmm?" Jackie willed her feet to keep walking, as she stared down at the sidewalk. Bucky didn't have to know what the name meant to her. Her legs were shaky, as were her breaths.

He cleared his throat, before continuing. His tone was composed and calm, but there was a hint of prudence in his tone.

"After Philadelphia in '97, Riley Penn moved to Ohio where he worked odd jobs for the next decade. He had a son, who is now ten and lives with his mother. Then he went to the state penitentiary for a couple of years, for physical assault and fraud. When the snap happened, he managed to get out somehow and moved around a lot. But – " Bucky paused discretely. "Riley died from a heart attack, two years ago."

Jackie stopped dead in her tracks. Her mind went completely blank for a few, long seconds.

It was only the distant sound of yelling that broke her out of her catatonic state.

"Hey, Bucky, Jackie! Wait up!"

They both turned automatically to the side to find Sam Wilson calling out to them from across the road. He stood in front of a bakery, holding a tall pile of cake boxes that he was loading into the backseat of his car, with the help of a couple of friends by his side. Sam was grinning happily, and his skin was glowing under the high afternoon sun.

With a furrowed brow, Bucky passed a concerned look at Jackie and then urned back to face Sam, who cheerfully crossed the road to meet them.

He warmly greeted Bucky and Jackie, with an affectionate grasp of each of their shoulders. Jackie shook her head to snap herself back into reality, and met his joyful countenance, by mustering up a downtrodden smile of her own.

"Congratulations Sam, you both looked beautiful last night. I'm so happy for you,"

She meant every word. She just had to focus on letting him know that, right now.

"Thank you so much Jackie, I'm so glad you both could make it," he beamed.

Bucky gave Sam his best, most affectionate smile and nodded reassuringly at him. "Of course, wouldn't miss it for the world. I wish you two all the best, you deserve it,"

The last phrase was added as an afterthought, quieter and with his eyes on his feet. If Sam noticed anything odd about the two of them, he didn't let it show. Besides, eccentricity was Bucky's natural state of being, anyway. Jackie gently squeezed Sam's hand to make up for any suspicious lag on her behalf, and Bucky patted his back warmly as if on command.

After bidding goodbye and best wishes to the joyful and sought-after and busy groom, she and Bucky made their way back to the hotel in silence

Jackie was lost in a million and one thoughts. None of them brought her any close to a coherent and clear understanding of what she felt.

Surely, it didn't matter what happened to Riley Penn? His life and death didn't affect her life in the least. He meant nothing to her. But his death felt personal, and sudden – despite it taking place years ago, without Jackie's knowledge. Why did she have to find out after she'd lost her mother?

How could she have become an orphan twice in a row?

When Bucky stopped, Jackie realised they had reached the hotel, and he wasn't planning on going inside just yet. If she recalled, he had plans to help Sarah with some wedding preparations and he had told Jackie about it at lunch – which now felt lightyears away. She blinked a few times to reground herself.

"I'm sorry Jackie,"

Of course, Bucky knew. He had tracked the man down after all.

"Thank you for finding him. And for everything else," Jackie wasn't sure what she meant by that, but she sure as hell meant it. Mustering up a rueful smile and a gentle touch on his arm, she went inside.

The wedding took place at sunset. The sky was ablaze with shades of fiery auburn and blue. The glistening river below and along the restaurant, was even more stunning with a sunset reflecting off its surface. The decorations were the same as the night before, but the food was different. There were smoked ribs and fish, along with a tall wedding cake and bottles of champagne. The ceremony was beautiful. Sam in his white suit, and his fiancé – Lily, in a mermaid-style, flowy white dress, laced at the neckline.

Once they both spoke their vows (bringing everyone to tears), the marriage was officiated, and the festivities burst into colour.

The restaurant was more crowded than the night before, and in the bustling commotion, Bucky managed to balance four plates of food on his arm. He was careful to preserve his best and only suit, which he had worn the night before. Of course, it was freshly pressed for tonight. Of all the places he'd travelled to, Bucky had never prepared for a wedding before.

He placed one plate carefully in front of Jackie, one for Sam's elderly neighbour who sat on their table too, one for his wife, and one in front of his seat.

Perhaps Sam purposely sat him next to elderly guests each night, as a joke, but Bucky found it much easier to make conversations with them anyway. They both talked emphatically about their favourite jazz music, and then the old man began recounting his days working at the White House. Bucky almost doubted the story when he caught the amused look on his wife's face, but the open and bold body language indicated the couples' honesty. Even if the old man was lying, it was of no importance to Bucky. So, he nodded eagerly at the rambling, and contributed a few times between delicious bites of food, to sympathise with complaints about modern technology and climate change.

Jackie carefully poured champagne in everyone's glasses and smoothed out the creases on her off-shoulder, rose-gold dress. Her knee had healed enough for her to only need a couple of bandages to cover the scars, and her concern to conceal it had faded away with the afternoon happenings. It was doubtful that anyone would be paying attention to Jackie's knees, especially in her favourite dress.

She listened keenly to the elderly woman tell her about Sam's childhood and how he snuck into her house for popsicles. All while her husband told Bucky riveting, secret stories of American politics. Bucky had a lot to contribute to those stories, as Jackie could tell when he met her gaze with an amused twinkle in his eyes – but he kept quiet… for the most part.

Jackie focused on the elderly woman's pleasant words as much as she possibly could. Nodding and chuckling when the time was right. She enjoyed listening so she could forget what had transpired today.

After reaching her room that afternoon, Jackie had cried for a long while, not understanding why she felt as emotional as she did. Riley Penn meant nothing to her, but the more she convinced herself of it, the less likely Jackie was to believe that. In fact, she began feeling guilty for crying more over her unlucky circumstances, than for her dead parents. It was an unpleasant spiral – drowning in self-pity and anguish.

However, once she finished crying, Jackie forced herself to meditate for a few minutes and fill her journal with haphazard thoughts and rambling words. Anger, grief, misery, and fear. She let it all out on paper, which she then burnt in her bathroom sink, with a lighter. The breakdown left her heart feeling lighter, all of a sudden. She thought logically as to how she would approach herself if Jackie were her own patient.

She wouldn't hurry her grief or pester herself to get over her father's death. Jackie wouldn't make herself feel guilty or weak for mourning everyone she'd lost, whether it was now, or as a baby. It was okay to cry for selfish reasons. She would accept how lonely it felt being without family, now that her uncle had also left for Florida. Jackie wouldn't beat herself up for missing her childhood or hold herself to an impossible standard of composure and perfection, just because she thought her job entitled her to it. There were no expectations for her to meet, besides her own. No one to make proud, or please… or even disappoint. Jackie would have to be her own caretaker and set her own expectations for herself, to achievable standards. She would be kinder to herself. She would.

It was a promise. Jackie prayed she was able to keep it.

Sitting on a table, watching people dance and celebrate Sam and his wife, she opened herself up to the lovely atmosphere. Jackie smiled politely at the elderly couple, as they left the table and disappeared into the crowd to greet their friends. Leaving her and Bucky quietly alone in their thoughts.

After a moment, she turned to him with an open smile and a nudge on his metal arm. "What's going on in that robot brain of yours?"

Bucky's countenance was clear and bore no readable expression as he gazed across the crowds. His tone was calm as he replied:

"I'm wondering if the Winter Soldier is truly gone, or just a part of me that I can no longer recognise inside me anymore… deeply embedded within me,"

Jackie blinked a few times. "Jesus, Buck," was all she could say as she gazed out at the tables around them and then back at Bucky. To her disbelief, he actually smirked and gave her a small wink; barely nudging her, as he faced ahead to watch Sam and Lily perform their first dance together.

Jackie's shoulders relaxed once more, as she scowled his way.

"Once we get back, I'm finding you a good therapist, and I won't hear any arguments about it,"

Bucky shook his head with a reluctant smile. Despite his concerning statement, he seemed relaxed and openly enjoying the celebration, much to even his own surprise.

He gave a resigned sigh and ran his metal fingers through his hair. To Jackie's astonishment, he wasn't wearing his gloves today. Perhaps, Delacroix was Bucky's escape from himself, as much as it was hers.

"Alright. I mean – as long as it's not you, how bad could they be, right?"

"Oh, haha, Barnes. Keep up the humour, and you'll be going back to New York, in a bus tomorrow,"

Nevertheless, Jackie was very conscious of Bucky's subtlest submission to trying at therapy once again, and her heart brimmed with pride. Bucky's trust in her to find him a therapist, was no light-hearted joke. In fact, Bucky's trust – period – was an accomplishment that she had never quite expected to achieve. She drummed her fingers on the table, with a revived enthusiasm.

Bucky was silent for a while, as they both watched Sam and Lily glide over the open floor, gazing lovingly into each other's eyes. When the dance ended, everyone erupted into applause. The air dazzled with serenity, magic and joy, as people began to slowly move towards the dancefloor, swaying and laughing with their partners.

"I hope you forgive yourself for not becoming the person you thought you would be, Bucky. And for not living the life you intended to have,"

Bucky's gaze flickered over the dancing crowd; his steel blue eyes illuminated with the bright lights.

"I hope so too. And for you as well," he whispered.

The air of celebration embraced Jackie, beckoning her to forget everything except for the party, and she did. It felt easy and natural to smile at the people dancing around her. The guests were amiable – dancing freely and without inhibition. Their joy was blissful and contagious, and Jackie unexplainably felt a surge of love for all of them, just by looking from afar. Especially Sarah, who looked as stunning as ever, nodding at her to join everyone on the dance floor.

There was a fake cough beside her. "Do you want to dance?"

Jackie made sure to avoid Bucky's eyes for a couple of seconds, to make sure her disbelief didn't come across too strong, and unnerve him.

"With 1940's 'King of Dance'? Are you kidding?"

"I never called myself that…." Bucky was already having regrets about asking, as he rolled his eyes and shook his head to let the doubts slip away. He couldn't back down from his own offer, but now he almost hoped Jackie would say no. Instead, she linked her arm around his without a second thought.

To his own amazement, his body wasn't as rigid as Bucky had thought it would be. He found himself falling back into the same form, from decades ago. The steps and movements came to him like a revelation, which was embedded in his subconsciousness for decades, without his knowledge. Although he was guarded and stoic at first, Bucky grew more open and assured, with each step. There really wasn't much to do, besides step forward and back, stretching out his arm and then back in. Swaying very inconspicuously to the rhythm of the music. However, Bucky knew he still wouldn't be able to match the confidence and expert smoothness of his past self.

A faded memory of his last dance at a bar in England, crept up on him, as if the lid of pandora's box had been opened, and the world around him faded away, as did the people.

The twinkling lights around Bucky's peripheral vision, matched those of the 1940's war-torn bar. He had been drunk on whisky and eager to forget the pain in his leg, where a bullet had grazed his flesh during a war skirmish, earlier that day. Every inch of his body had ached with fatigue, pain and lack of nourishment, but he had danced the night away, drunk and free. In that moment in time, Bucky would have done anything to feel close to home. And right then and there, dancing had been the answer.

Now, there was no threat or hunger, except for the longing to return back to his war-scarred life from before. To his brethren of Howling Commandos. To return to his family. His Brooklyn. His world. And Steve. Bucky blinked away the tide of emotion, to bring himself back to reality. Back to his body and his motions. He focused on his senses. On the lights and the spacious crowd. His feet on the polished, wooden floor. The faint feeling of the skin of Jackie's hand in his left, vibranium hand. The obvious sensation of touch through his right hand as he let her reel outwards and then come back in. Pulling his hand over her head, as she spun on her heels.

Jackie wasn't an excellent dancer, maybe more so for freestyle, drunk dancing, and she couldn't recall the last time she'd danced at a wedding. However, it was easy to follow Bucky's lead, and go with rhythmic flow of the music, gently swaying and spinning out, and then in. He too, slowly became more self-assured as time went one, and it became clear that Bucky knew what he was doing – maybe not consciously, but his motor memory had surely kicked in. There was no urgency, suddenness, or concern for getting the steps right. They both moved elegantly and carelessly, gliding lightly over the floor, as they pleased. A gentle salt breeze blew through the open room.

With one hand over Bucky's shoulder, and one hand clasped firmly in his, Jackie beamed from being twirled too fast, and she squeezed her eyes shut; clinging on to him for dear life. Bucky grinned too, but he wasn't sure why. His vision was perfectly clear, but lights still erupted into blazing stars around him, as he breathed in the music. Soulful jazz. The perfect music.

Letting himself go with the graceful waves of movement. Although he was accustomed to stares, Bucky was surprised he couldn't feel any on him tonight. That felt impossible considering he was dancing. The Winter Soldier on the dancefloor.

Nevertheless, he still found Sam's carefree gaze, him and his wife grinned at the two of them, as they took a break from dancing to drink wine and talk. "On your right," Bucky smirked fondly, purposely swaying Jackie too fast for her to keep up, and she shrieked as they narrowly avoided colliding into Sam.

It made Bucky throw his head back in laughter, and he felt sure he must be drunk, even if that was physically impossible for him.

Maybe this world wasn't as different from the one he'd lost.

Jackie steadied herself against him, sure she would fall any moment now, but Bucky kept his vibranium hand delicately on her back, so she didn't trip once – despite how dizzy she felt from all the twisting and turning. Strands of her hair were pressed against her face, and she forgot about her bruised knee from the night before. All her fatigue from her sorrowful year, melted away in giddy laughter. Maybe Jackie's glass of champagne had been too strong, but that couldn't have affected Bucky – and he was grinning from ear to ear, almost boyishly

Never in her life had she imagined hugging Bucky Barnes. And that it would feel like home. The melodies merged into the hazy blur of lights, sparkling around them, as they clouded her mind. Jackie hadn't laughed this much since her mother had been alive.

Nothing from the past seemed to bring her any pain anymore. Not tonight. She could feel them all coexisting: the deaths, the loneliness, the fear and the grief of closing such a big chapter of her life. But they no longer chased her, and Jackie no longer hid. All her memories were painted with kindness, as if an invisible veil of delight had been dropped over them, and her. Everything was sweet like honey.

She found herself recalling the same word over and over in her head, and it washed over her.

"Ad Meliora"

Her mother had taught her that it meant "towards better things", and from the depths of her heart, Jackie knew that was where she was headed. And if the crinkles on the edges of his eyes and grin, were any indication – it applied to Bucky too. Maybe not now. Maybe not even for a long while. Maybe things would get better, only to get worse… and then get better again.

However, no matter what lay ahead, Jackie knew she would remember this night for as long as she lived.

~the end~

I loved writing this story. Thank you to everyone who read/will read this and for your comments. Lots of love 3