Bucky didn't book a flight back to New York. For some reason, he had found himself staying in the Norfolk countryside for a while longer. He had informed his therapist who had told him that the fresh air might actually do him some good. He had scoffed at that, not entirely convinced on that point, but he didn't push it with her. Amelia had been fine with him staying, but she was increasingly confused as to why he wanted to stay. She had no idea how he could even stand to be around her.
But the truth was that Bucky saw something in her that he didn't see in New York. In New York he was around hundreds of people every day. He was never alone, but he was lonely. He had felt so lonely ever since Steve had gone back to the life he had wanted to live. And then he had met Amelia and he saw something similar in her. She seemed so lonely too. She had lost her family. The man she loved was going to spend the rest of his life behind bars in a cell in Germany. The man she had been dating wanted to do nothing more than kill her. Who did she have? She had no one and he knew that.
Plus there was the fact that she was actually quite good at making conversation. They had spent time just talking and he had learned a lot more about her. She had been comfortable opening up to him, giving him a snippet into her life. Then there was the fact that she was still injured. She struggled to do things on her own and Bucky had noticed that.
He had just finished having an online session with his therapist in Amelia's study after she had kindly let him use her computer. Moving down the hallway to the staircase, he could hear her voice drifting out of the master bedroom. He didn't want to loiter, but he couldn't help himself. He listened into her conversation and suspected there was only one person she could be talking to.
"That's not fair, you know why I didn't tell you…no it didn't just slip my mind…he saved me…he came for me and he saved me…I owed him the truth and he came back here and I gave it to him. Why does it matter, anyway?"
Her voice sounded terse, like she was on the verge of yelling or starting an argument. Bucky loitered around the corner, intently trying to work out what was going on. But he had his suspicions.
"Barne's not a bad man, Helmut, and I'm not scared of him. He's gone back to the States now anyway, so what does it matter? He just brought me home, which you would never have known if Oeznik didn't tell you, and I told him the truth. He left and I doubt I'll ever see him again."
She was lying to him. Why was she lying to him? Bucky flexed the fingers of his vibranium arm and Amelia continued talking.
"I don't want to argue with you over this, Helmut," she continued talking, tone now turning slightly softer, almost as though she was trying to reason with the man on the end of the phone. Bucky drummed his fingers against his thigh and she continued her conversation. "He found me and brought me home, that's it. I'm fine…no…no nothing…please, just don't turn this into a big deal. I mean, really, I should be grateful that Barnes was there…I wish you were too, but there's nothing we can do about that…yeah…I'll talk to you later…bye, Helmut."
Bucky heard the conversation end and he moved down the stairs before Amelia could leave her bedroom. He went into the kitchen and heard her footsteps from up above. She moved down the steps and came to the kitchen, tossing her phone onto the worktop.
"How was therapy?"
"As torturous as always," Bucky said. "You alright? I thought I heard you on the phone?"
"Oh, it was just the energy company. They've overcharged me," Amelia said, but she didn't meet his gaze. She looked away and out through the bifold doors. Bucky nodded, not pushing it with her. He flicked the switch on the kettle and Amelia moved across the tiled floor to pull open the door.
"Tea?" Bucky asked from her, not pushing her on why she was lying to him.
"Please," she called back. "You know, I can probably do that myself."
"I don't mind," Bucky shrugged nonchalantly. "How is the back anyway?"
"It still aches, but it doesn't hurt like it used to," she informed him. "I think the wounds are slowly healing. Hopefully in another few weeks they'll be fine. I'm trying to lower my medication dosage as well…come off the painkillers…but I have been thinking that, maybe, it might be worth going to therapy."
Bucky nodded. Therapy hadn't really been helping him that much, but that was just him. He didn't see why it couldn't help Amelia.
"I was reading up about these therapists who specialise in helping people after they've been sexually assaulted," Amelia confessed to him and Bucky nodded his head. He had done his best to be respectful of her space, also reading up about how to help someone after they'd been hurt. He gave her space. He never touched her, unless she asked him for help. Even then, he would feel her stiffen under his touch. He never asked her about what happened in that basement. All he had done was try to act normally.
"Alright," Bucky said to her.
"And I can get an appointment tomorrow afternoon if I want one," Amelia informed him.
"And do you want one?"
"I think so," Amelia said. "I guess I'm just worried about what she might say…or if I have to relive what happened…because I don't think that I'd be able to cope with doing that."
"I'm sure she won't make you do anything that you're uncomfortable with," Bucky informed her. "But talking to someone might help you with the nightmares."
"I think so too," she agreed on that point. "I guess I'm just apprehensive."
"I know," Bucky assured her. "But if you want me to drive you tomorrow then just say. I don't think you're in a fit state to drive yourself just yet."
"You'd do that?" Amelia asked, the kettle whistling as it came to boil. Bucky nodded, placing teabags into two mugs and then going to get the milk out of the fridge. He carried the carton to the worktop and set it down.
"Yeah," he said to her with a nod of his head.
"Only if you're sure," Amelia responded.
"Positive," he told her.
"Thanks, Barnes," she said.
Bucky chuckled and poured the boiling water into the mugs. "You know, I've been living here for a while and you still call me Barnes."
Amelia shrugged. "I didn't know if you would be happy with me calling you Bucky."
"I think we're way past acting like total strangers," Bucky retorted.
"I guess," Amelia weakly agreed on that point.
She had no idea what they were. She had to confess that she enjoyed spending time with Bucky. He was kind and considerate, always asking her if she was alright or if she needed anything. It was like nothing was too much bother for him. But she wondered if he was only staying with her because he was now taking his turn to pity her. He couldn't like her after what she had done, surely? She would have ruined his life. She wasn't someone he should be friends with. But he was still here.
Disrupting herself from her thoughts, she noticed Bucky squeeze the teabag against the side of the mug and her mouth dropped open at seeing him. "What the hell are you doing?" she demanded.
From her tone, Bucky wondered if he had committed some heinous crime. She was looking at him completely aghast, horror on her face.
"Making tea," he said simply.
"Why did you squeeze the teabag?" Amelia demanded, moving back over to him and taking the spoon he had used to do it from his grip. He let her, moving a step back. She placed the teabag back into the water. "You're not supposed to do that. You're supposed to leave the teabag in the water to brew for a few minutes. It's more flavoursome if you do that."
"You're seriously telling me there is a proper way to make a cup of tea?" he checked with her.
"Uh-huh," she confirmed, adding the milk and stirring it in, leaving the drink alone and turning to face Bucky once more. "You're in England now, the way to make a proper cup of tea is hotly contested."
Bucky laughed, but he saw that she was looking at him with a serious expression. His brows knitted together. "You're serious?" he checked.
"Deadly," she said to him. "And no offence, but I was wondering why your cups of tea tasted weird. I guess I've found out why."
"So I spend all this time cooking…sorting out things you want moving…buying groceries…and now you insult me?"
"No, I'm insulting your teamaking skills," she responded. "Good job I'm here to set you straight, huh?"
"Good job," Bucky said, sarcasm oozing from his voice that Amelia pretended not to pick up on. She rolled her eyes and turned back to the mug of tea as Bucky smirked at her back unable to stop himself.
…
"I can take you to the airport."
"It's a long drive."
"I don't mind," Amelia assured him.
"I can get the train to London and then change to get to Heathrow," Bucky said.
He had finally booked a flight back to New York almost two months later. He couldn't put off returning any longer and Amelia seemed to be doing much better. Her wounds had almost healed, now turning into scars that she would have to live with for the rest of her life. She attended a therapy session once a week and that also seemed to be helping. Bucky never asked her what she talked about, only asking her if she was alright when she had finished. She would say yes and that would be the end of the conversation. It wasn't his place to pry any further than that.
And so he had decided to go back home, but a part of him didn't want to. He didn't want to go back to the city. He had enjoyed the quiet of the countryside. Spending time with Amelia had been enjoyable. Once she had started recovering, she had taken him on short walks through the countryside, often finding a country pub and enjoying a glass of wine while Bucky opted for a beer. They would play Scrabble in the evening, Bucky discovering that Amelia hated losing. She introduced him to modern films as well and taught him the joy of music streaming so that he could listen to music anytime he wanted to on his phone.
"I'm taking you to Heathrow so don't even think about getting a taxi to the train station."
"You really are stubborn."
"You're just working this out now?"
She picked up her car key from the sideboard in the hallway and Bucky watched her move outside. He followed her with his duffel bag over his shoulder. She locked the house up and unlocked her car. Bucky dropped his bag into the trunk and climbed into the passenger seat. Her car was pretty compact, nothing fancy. It was a blue hatchback with a control panel in the middle. She sat in the driver's side and tapped in the location, allowing the sat-nav to come to life on the panel.
"So, what are you going to do when you get back to New York?"
"Continue making amends," Bucky said to her. "I can't think of anything else for me to do, plus it's what I want to do too. I need to do it."
"I can't even imagine," Amelia said to him. And she couldn't. She didn't know if she would ever understand how difficult it was for him.
"And you?"
"Me?"
"What are you going to do now?"
"Well, I had been planning on starting a PhD, but I don't know anymore. I guess I have time to decide…but I…I just feel lost, you know?" Amelia asked from him and she turned onto the main road, moving up gears. "I don't know what it is I want to do or what I even want. I just feel like I'm waking up every day and just…existing…"
"I know that feeling," Bucky told her. And he did know that feeling. He wasn't sure of his place in the modern world just yet and he was worried that he wouldn't find it. He hoped that he would, of course, but he was still waiting patiently for that to happen.
"And I know I'm a position where I have time to figure out what I want, but I just don't know if time will make a difference…before all of this…spending that year with Helmut, we actually had things to do and now I just don't know what the point is. I had things planned out too. I'd moved home…started a Masters degree…and then the Blip happened and so did Andrew."
"You know that I won't tell anyone what happened with him, right?" Bucky said to her and she nodded, moving to join the motorway and focusing on getting into the right lane once she was on it.
"I know," she assured him once she was settled in the right lane. "And you know that I'll never be able to thank you enough for what you've done for me. You saved me, but…everything else…everything since then…you didn't need to do any of it. You helped me get through the past few months."
Bucky looked down to his lap. He wasn't exactly used to being thanked. It was quite the novelty. Amelia continued looking in front of her, focusing on her driving and waiting for Bucky to say something to her.
"You've done bad things, Amelia, and I'm not going to pretend you haven't," Bucky said to her and she inhaled a sharp breath. "But you did them because you thought it was the right thing to do…I don't think you're a bad person, not really. Not like him."
Amelia sighed. "He's not entirely bad," she informed Bucky and he knew that she would always defend him. "He's done bad things and I know that, but he…" she trailed off. She always did this. She couldn't defend him, not continuously. "He's just not a completely bad person."
"Will you ever move on from him?" Bucky wondered from her and she gripped the steering wheel much tighter at hearing him ask her that. How did she even answer it?
"I don't know," Amelia confessed. "I'm thinking about giving up men all together."
Bucky hummed lowly, not sure what he should say back to her on that point. She changed the topic, moving away from the heavy conversation and onto things that were lighter. Bucky indulged her, trying not to bring Helmut up again. They ended up sat in traffic the closer they got to London, the car constantly having to start and stop. Amelia followed the signs for Heathrow, often blaring her horn whenever anyone tried to cut in front of her or got too close. Bucky had tried not to laugh at her road rage.
Finally, she got to the terminal and parked in the 'drop off' bay. She turned the engine off and climbed out of the car, needing to stretch her limbs. She kept her car key in her hand, her white shirt tucked into a flowing black skirt that fell down to her ankles. Moving to the trunk, she mirrored Bucky's movements. He opened it up and grabbed his bag, slinging it over his shoulder.
"So, this is it," Amelia commented, rocking back and forth on her heels.
"Yeah," Bucky agreed with her on that point.
"Well, if you're ever back in the U.K. then you have somewhere to stay," she shrugged to him, folding her arms over her chest. "And take care of yourself. Try not to put too much pressure on yourself to make amends…there's only so much you can do."
"I'll keep it in mind," Bucky assured her. "And you take care of yourself too, alright?"
"I'll be fine," Amelia promised him. "And…thanks…for everything…I don't know if a thank you will ever be enough after everything-"
"-It's enough," Bucky interrupted her before she could begin babbling.
Tucking her hair behind her ear, she nodded and looked down, lips arching slightly. "I'll see you around then…Bucky," she said and he smiled back to her.
"See you around," he said and gave her one final incline of his head before turning on his heel and moving towards the terminal.
Watching the back of him, Amelia rolled her eyes. "See you around?" she questioned to herself and shook her head. Before she could think about what she was doing, she was moving behind him, ignoring the parking attendant who told her that she shouldn't leave her vehicle.
"Bucky," she called his name and he turned his head over his shoulder as he stood in the automatic doors. He saw her approaching and before he could even ask what she was doing, she had wrapped her arms around him, embracing him tightly. He hesitated for a moment, not entirely used to being held. It took a moment before he tentatively wrapped his arms around her, not sure if he was doing the right thing, but she didn't pull back. She ran her hand up and down his back. He was still anxious, namely because he saw how she was whenever anyone touched her or brushed by her. Being touched was still difficult for her. But not when she was the one to initiate it
Pulling back, Amelia stood on her toes and managed to kiss him on his clean-shaven cheek. She held onto his shoulders to balance herself and he lowered his arms from around her. She said nothing to him, uncertain of what she should say as he continued staring at her intently, longing to know what was going on in her mind.
"You best go before you miss your flight," she said and he nodded.
"Yeah," he agreed weakly.
"Let me know when you get back…just so I know you're alright."
"I can do that," Bucky said to her and she nodded.
"Great," she said, nodding quickly. "I'll talk to you soon then."
"About ten hours," he said and she smiled at that. Backing away from him again, she waved softly as she returned to her car and spoke with the parking attendant, trying to calm him down and holding her car keys in his direction, promising him that she was going. Bucky remained in the doorway, chuckling as he watched her open her car door and look at him over the roof of the car.
She pulled a face behind the attendant's back and rolled her eyes, Bucky chuckling. With one more soft smile and wave, she said her final goodbye. Climbing into the car, Bucky watched her drive off and the smile remained on his face as he turned into the terminal and prepared to return home.
…
Helmut hadn't seen Amelia in months. He called her, of course, and she picked up. But their conversations almost seemed terse. There was something wrong and Helmut was acutely aware of that. Oeznik had been to see him and had told him that she had been found by Barnes. He informed Helmut that he didn't know if she had been hurt. She had been sleeping when he had gone to see her and hadn't said much about what had happened. And she wasn't telling Helmut anything over the phone either.
But he knew that there was something amiss. He had asked her if she had intended on coming out to visit him again, but she had told him that she wasn't sure if she could make it. It seemed like she always had some kind of excuse. But without looking into her eyes, he knew that he couldn't be certain what was wrong.
It was another particularly dull morning when Helmut had been informed that he had a visitor. He had been reading the newspaper, flicking through the headlines. He read about the new group called the Flag Smashers and how they were stealing from GRC supplies. He closed the paper when he heard the door buzz open and he wondered if Amelia had finally come to see him.
But it wasn't Amelia.
Helmut watched as the man approached and a frown began to form on his lips. What was he doing here? Why had he come to him? He remained sat on the end of his bed as he stood in front of the glass cell. He spoke those words that were so familiar to him, seeing if he could get a rise out of him. But there was nothing. The control words didn't work.
"Those days are over," he declared.
"I know," Helmut said. "Just wanted to see how the new you reacts to the old words."
Moving to his feet, he left the shadows of the back of the cell and walked towards the glass pane separating him from the Winter Soldier. He tilted his head, his gaze set on Bucky in front of him. He weighed him up and spoke slowly. "Something is still in there," he commented and then glanced down. "At least you were not conscious for most of your imprisonment."
"That time wasn't exactly a picnic," Bucky responded, refusing to break eye contact.
It was Helmut who moved first, turning away from Bucky and moving into his cell once more, pacing up and down.
"For what it's worth, I'm sorry," he said to him. "It was never personal," he wagged a finger in his direction. "You were simple a means to a necessary end."
Bucky didn't want to respond to that. He didn't want to go back to that time in his life. He was trying to put the past behind him. "Someone recreated the super soldier serum," he informed Helmut. "I need to find out who."
Helmut moved back to the glass, studying Bucky and pointing a finger at him. "You are assuming that HYDRA had something to do with this and so you came to me…which means that you must be desperate."
Bucky wasn't going to disagree with him on that point. He was desperate. But then Helmut spoke once more, his voice sounding tenser than usual and something flashing in his eyes that Bucky saw as longing.
"Why did you not go to Amelia?" Helmut questioned from him.
Where did Bucky begin? He didn't go to her because he didn't want to put her through anything else. He called her, of course, when he landed back in New York. They texted often, talking about everything and nothing. It was almost as though they just enjoyed having someone to talk to when they felt alone.
"You don't want her involved."
"She's been through enough," Bucky said with a shake of his head.
"What happened to her?" Helmut questioned.
But Bucky shook his head and looked away. "I'm not doing this with you. She's not a part of this plan."
Helmut continued observing him and he wondered just what Bucky was keeping from him. His mind began racing over the numerous possibilities. He stood as close to the glass as he possibly could, tilting his head to the side and observing Bucky as he dropped his hands to his hips, crumpling his jeans.
"You care about her," Helmut commented. He could see it. He could see it clear as day. Was this why she wasn't visiting him?
"She's not a bad person," was all Bucky offered him.
"So you've been spending time with her. How else would you know that if you hadn't spent time with her?" Helmut demanded to know.
"Fine, I spent some time with her in Norfolk," Bucky relented. "After Madripoor I wanted answers from her and she gave them to me."
"And you expect me to believe that is all?"
"I don't care what you believe, but regardless, it would be none of your business anyway," Bucky said and he wondered if the man behind the glass could be so blind. Did he not truly see that Amelia was still completely besotted by him? "So, are you going to help us or what?"
Helmut continued watching Bucky and he nodded his head slowly. "When do we start?"
...
A/N: We're into the show! Anything you want to see happen? Where do you think this might go? Would love to know your thoughts!
