"Stay out of my way," John Walker warned, a glare on his face.
Bucky breathed a laugh; the other man was entirely incapable of intimidating him. He glanced at Sam before they turned and made their exit. Walking down the street, both former soldiers stewed in their frustration. Bucky tipped his head back slightly, taking a few deep breaths.
He didn't want to admit his insecurities to Sam, but he had. His worries about who he really was had fallen from his lips before he could stop them. And the result? Instant rejection. Obviously there were big things going on. Clearly he and Sam were not on good terms. But that the other man hadn't heard or understood him at all and had declared an impending separation stung. He was too fucked up, too changed for anyone to see him or accept him.
Except Harper.
His heart felt heavy again with the weight of their conflict. It was getting harder to deal with the fact that he had snapped at her for something so insignificant. His hand dipped into his pocket, pulling out his phone. The weight about doubled, seeing her attempt to warn him about violating his mandate.
James: Too late. Arrested, released, and another session completed. Sorry to have been silent.
Harper: I assume you and Sam are quite busy.
James: Yes, with no clear end in sight.
"So what are you thinking?" Sam finally broke the silence between them.
They dodged a few people walking in the opposite direction on the sidewalk. Bucky answered, "Well, I know what we have to do. When Isaiah said 'my people-'"
"Oh, don't take that to heart," Sam cut him off. "That's not what he meant."
"No, he meant HYDRA. HYDRA used to be my people."
Sam shook his head and scoffed, "Not a chance."
"Walker doesn't have any leads."
"I know where you're going with this. No."
Bucky argued, "He knows all of HYDRA's secrets. Don't you remember Siberia?"
"So you're just going to go sit in a room with this guy?"
With poorly restrained dread, he nodded. "Yes."
"Okay then," Sam conceded. "We're gonna go see Zemo."
They shared a nod of agreement. Sam took out his phone to begin working out travel logistics. Bucky returned to his phone as well.
James: We're heading overseas. I may have to go silent again.
Harper: Thank you for telling me.
James: Harper, I know things aren't good between us right now. But that isn't why I haven't been communicating. Honest.
Harper: I don't know what to do, what to think, James. We have this awful fight, I find out you have a date with someone else. Now you're off fighting rebels, violating the terms of your pardon in I couldn't even guess how many ways…
James: I promise we'll talk as soon as this is over with.
Harper: Please don't make promises you may not be able to keep. I know all too well that there's always a chance you won't come back.
Harper: Please be safe. I love you.
James: I'm sorry, Harper. I love you, and I swear I'll come back to you as soon as I can.
No further texts came. God, could they ever get back to the happy bubble they had in Bucharest? Were they fighting fate? Maybe Romania had been a fluke. Not that they had fallen in love, but that they had been happy for so long. Everything he touched crumbled. She was just belatedly affected.
He didn't deserve her, but he needed her. He'd lost so much time. His life, his dreams were lost with the decades that passed after 1944. Growing with Harper had been delayed by nearly a year in cryofreeze in Wakanda. Now five more years - time he could have spent with Harper - gone in a literal snap. How much longer would he have a place in her life? How much longer could she possibly love a monster like him?
Harper frowned, scooping Aslan up in her arms. Gently, she placed him in his favorite spot at the foot of her bed. She'd bought several sets of stairs for him which had helped for quite a while. His old body was stiff and not as powerful as it used to be. Making the leap up to his preferred perches was now a challenge.
Content nonetheless, the aged mammal walked two slow circles on his blanket before curling up. One front paw curled around a foot and he rested his cheek on the other front paw. The brunette bent over him, running her fingers lovingly through his fur and placing a kiss between his ears. A soft noise of happiness sounded from him, drawing a small smile to her lips.
It fell soon after. News had broken about a riot and subsequent escape from a maximum security prison in Germany. The escapee was Helmut Zemo, and she had no doubt that James had been involved somehow. It seemed too much of a coincidence that he was going "overseas" and the next day the man who framed him for the bombing of the Accords in Vienna had suddenly freed himself from prison.
Harper sighed and began shedding her clothes, tossing everything into her hamper. Walking to her dresser, Harper hesitated. James had left some of his clothes in her apartment, and they once again smelled like him. Did she really want that reminder, though?
Bright brown eyes caught a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror atop the dresser. They fell on her tattoo. The brilliant red poppy stood out on her fair skin. Dark waves of hair just barely skimmed the topmost petal, but the contrast was pretty nonetheless. Her hands moved on their own, one opening the top right draw and pulling out one of James's t-shirts and the other reaching into one of her drawers for a pair of pajama pants.
Clothes donned and tattoo covered, she flicked the overhead light off and slid into bed. Aslan gave a slight grumble at being disturbed, but otherwise remained quietly in his spot. Ensconced in the warmth of her comforter, Harper tugged at the collar of the t-shirt, bringing it up to her nose. Patchouli, cotton, and something that was uniquely James. Once again, the only comfort she had was that blend of scents.
Bucky squared his shoulders, walked with elegant power in his stride. With his brow furrowed, he kept his eyes carefully blank yet deadly. It was terrifying how easy it was for his body to fall back into being the Winter Soldier. That fear couldn't show in his expression or in his movements. Keeping their cover was a matter of life or death, and showing any further vulnerability to his present company was to be avoided. They both knew too much about him already.
The club reeked of stale sweat, sex, liquor, and smoke. Flushed women with glassy eyes and lazy smiles twisted and twirled all around the room, bodies moving and sweating out whatever cocktail of substances that was in their systems. Men hunched over in corners, making deals, exchanging money and weapons. Others coiled themselves around the women. Bucky suddenly thought about Harper's last experience at a club.
His gaze darkened and his jaw clenched tighter. Cool anger was good fuel for his current endeavor. He was all too aware of all the eyes on him as he followed obediently behind Zemo. If he appeared to be anything other than the lethal soldat ready to comply, they'd be dead.
Harper was roused from sleep by her phone vibrating atop her nightstand. She turned over and hastily rubbed the sleep from her eyes. After everything that had happened with Gram and Natalie, she had fallen into the habit of keeping her phone on and nearby in case of an emergency call. With confusion, she accepted the call from her partner.
"James?"
"Harper." She could immediately hear the pain and desperation in his voice, the edge of panic.
"Hun, what's wrong?"
"I…" he broke off with a shaky breath and a curse. "I had to be the Soldier again. And even without the code, I can still do it. I'm still him."
The brunette didn't know what he was talking about, but quickly understood his distress. "That isn't who you are. You're a man who fought selflessly for his country before he had any special abilities and who fought for the entire universe. The Soldier is a part of your past that you can choose to use for good now. That's all."
"The way my body moved… I'm still just a lethal machine. A weapon."
"You have weapons. Tools and skills. They don't define you. You are James Buchanan Barnes, number 32557038, an Avenger, and a good man."
She listened to his breathing. It was too fast and too harsh. He was trying not to fall apart, not to cry. He cleared his throat and muttered, "I don't have much time. I took refuge in the bathroom for a moment and just automatically called you."
Harper heard the unspoken apology and reassured, "That's okay."
"I have to go."
"Okay. Please breathe, alright?"
"I will. I love you."
He hung up before she could assure him of the same.
"Harper, c'mon," Kat whined. "You've turned down all of my invitations."
"I don't want to go, Kat," the brunette answered, wishing her friend would just drop the topic. She took a sip of her black tea, desperate for something to do that wasn't engaging in the conversation at hand.
The other brunette huffed and rolled her eyes. "I've been back for a few months, and all I've wanted is to have experiences with you and Tawny again. I missed out on time with you guys and so much has changed. What's the big deal about taking a trip down memory lane to meet me where I'm still at?"
"I'm done going to clubs," Harper said with a shake of her head.
"Why? Even Tawny won't help me badger you. The hell is wrong, Harper?"
She breathed a sigh through her nose. Would she ever be done rehashing the story of one of the worst experiences of her life? In any case, she hoped future accounts would be told in less public venues than a coffee shop.
With some modicum of detachment, she explained the efforts to end her dry spell during the Blip and the way her night had gone. About feeling so happy and relieved and sexy before everything turned to shit. How she'd been too tight and too dry for the fingers that had been hammered into her. The humiliation, the feeling she had betrayed the memory of her partner for the worst kind of man. Kat's face paled and her expression tightened until finally, as Harper fell quiet, Kat locked their fingers together atop the table.
"I'm so sorry, Harper. I didn't know."
"I hadn't told you, so how could you have known?" the now older brunette asked evenly. More gruffly, she added, "But now you do. I'm not snubbing your invitations. I'm just done with clubs."
Kat frowned and squeezed her hand. "Do you think… maybe you'd feel better if James was with you?"
Harper gazed down into her teacup. "I don't know. We're not on good terms right now."
"What's going on?" Kat asked, brows knitting with concern.
"We had a fight. I pushed him and he snapped and… I don't know. I don't want to rehash it, because honestly, he and I haven't even talked about it and it's been like, five days. He's been off superhero-ing, so…"
Kat nodded with a sympathetic smile. "Makes it hard to talk."
"Just a little." Quickly, Harper added, "I don't mean that in a resentful way. I think he's amazing. I just selfishly wish that we could have gotten back to a good place before duty took him away. I wish he could have been in a better place, too."
"Is he having a hard time being back?"
"Yes and no. Waking up in a new time isn't new to him, but so much has happened because of Geneva and his pardon. And I mean, obviously losing Steve was a huge blow, but…"
"Well, for you, too, right? You and Steve became close during the Blip."
Harper nodded. "But it's not the same. Which was one of the main points of our fight… And he was right. I probably really invalidated him when he was already feeling vulnerable."
"Don't be too hard on yourself," Kat advised. "You can't react perfectly at every turn, and you have feelings and needs, too."
Another sip of tea bought Harper a moment to form her response. Finally, she sighed and said, "Even so. I hurt him and now he's off fighting and doing who-knows-what. I can't help but feel like I totally screwed up. What if something happens to him again?"
"Isn't that sort of a worry you're going to have to continually contend with? Given who he is?"
Slowly, the older brunette nodded. What an awful realization.
"She said what?" Sam demanded, fingers curling tight around the phone at his ear. "Right. Hold on, hold on. I know, I know. Listen, pack an overnight bag and take the boys."
Bucky swiveled his head to the side, alarm bells going off. "What happened?"
Sam lowered the phone and shook his head slightly in disbelief. "Karli called Sarah. She threatened my nephews. Lifting the phone again, he continued, "Okay. Go somewhere safe. Only pay cash. All right? Tell me when you arrive. I know. Look, I love you. I'll never let anything happen to you and the boys. Okay. Bye."
The brunet watched Sam jam his fingertips against the screen of his phone, typing out a message. As a unit, they came to a stop. The other man explained, "Karli wants to meet. She left a contact number."
The phone dinged, alerting them that Karli had responded. She provided a location, demanded a meeting immediately, and specified that Sam should come alone. Bucky locked his gaze with Sam's and promised, "I'm coming with you."
They shared a nod and hastened to suit up and gather their weapons. As they rushed down the street, he did some texting on his own phone.
James: Have you received any strange texts or calls from blocked numbers?
Harper: No, nothing. Why?
James: Sam's family was compromised. If you get a call like that, you need to drop everything and go somewhere safe. Not to any family or friend's place, or to my place. Don't pay for anything with your cards. Okay?
Harper: Got it. Am I safe now?
His heart clenched painfully. It was a question she should never have to pose.
James: Most likely since you haven't been contacted. Sam mentioned his sister to an enemy. None of them know about you. Most people on our team don't, either, so it is unlikely your identity will get out. Still, it isn't totally impossible. Let me know if anything happens and be cautious.
Harper: Okay. You'll be careful too?
James: Promise. I love you.
Harper: I love you too.
Harper sat with her hand covering her mouth, catching the gasps of horror parting her lips. She and her colleagues were seated before a television in the kitchenette area of the office, watching the breaking news story. The anchorwoman had warned viewers that the footage was graphic, which had been an understatement.
Replaying over and over was shaky cell phone footage of John Walker, the new Captain America, bringing Steve's shield down on a fallen man. Over and over and over until his skull was crushed and blood was splattered everywhere. In the background of the footage, she saw James and Sam arrive on the scene. The image was too blurry to see his expression, but she saw his body language. The stiff posture of his muscles all going tight, the upward tilt of his chin as he tried to tip back his rage.
Her own stomach was turning. To see someone with Steve's mantle and his shield kill a man in cold blood was chilling. Tears pricked her eyes. Then her mind shifted again. In a strained voice, she spoke up, "Our patients…"
"This is going to be a huge trigger for some of them," one of her colleagues agreed with vacant horror on her face.
"Get ready for some emergency sessions," another nodded his head.
After a quick pause, they all stood and hastened back to their offices. They would each take a moment before beginning to attend to their phones and voicemails.
Harper slotted the key in the lock and twisted. Feeling the knob loosen, she let herself into James's apartment. She closed the door behind her and looked around, seeing he had added a few pieces of furniture since she had last seen it. On tired feet, she dragged her body over to the mattress on the floor, unmade and rumpled in light blue sheets.
Her weekend bag hit the floor and she practically fell to the bed. She was exhausted. After work, she had taken a train down to New York City. A bus ride and short walk later, she had finally arrived.
When she had received a message from James that he was heading back to the city and was going to give Yori the truth about his son, she had immediately purchased train tickets. Even if they had left off on a fight, their texts throughout his recent missions proved that there was still love between them. She knew everything in the past week had to have taken a huge toll on him, and this would be another hardship. He shouldn't have to deal with everything on his own anymore.
She had admittedly been surprised when she had knocked at his door and received no answer. But it worked out for the best. She needed a few minutes to lay limply on his bed and rally. It had been a very long couple of days. Emergency appointments kept her late at the office, brought her in early, and had her constantly checking her emails. With a glance at her phone, she determined she had been awake for nearly nineteen hours after getting only four of sleep. Well, that had been the norm in the three days since John Walker graced the news.
Harper dug the heels of her hands into her eyes, rubbing vigorously before rising to her feet once more. First things first, she shed her black trousers and slate grey button up and pulled on leggings and a t-shirt of nearly the same colors. She then pulled the takeout bag she had grabbed on her walk to the apartment building out of her tote. The food smelled good, but her stomach twisted. Fatigue and stress had kept her nauseous as of late.
Placing the brown paper bag on the counter for its contents to cool and then be shoved into the fridge, Harper settled in to wait. She didn't know when James would return home, but he wouldn't be alone when he did.
A/N: I loved TFATWS. It was so short but gave us so much. I hope I captured some of that here, and also placed Harper into the storyline in ways that made sense. I would really love any feedback on this story so far. I know my long hiatus meant there was definitely drop-off in readers, but I hope some of you that have stuck around might be willing to share some thoughts! Either way, thank you so much for your continued support!