Disclaimer: Wouldn't be here if I owned anything
Bucky continued to stare out into the night. He hadn't moved from his spot on the bench he didn't know how much time had passed since Béatrice had walked away. Since he had let her walk away. As more and more time passed, he regretted not going after her more and more. He should have stopped her and pulled her into his arms, begging for forgiveness. He had been such an idiot. What was wrong with him? He never would have acted this way in Brooklyn when it came to another other dame. But maybe that was the problem. Béatrice Faust wasn't just any other dame. She was special and he was going to be a damn fool if he let her get away. McPherson was completely right. If he let her get away, he'd regret it for the rest of his life.
He sighed heavily and ran his hands through his hair. He had to fix this. How though? If he had made any other girl at home upset, he'd just have to sweet talk her or bring her flowers. That always did the trick. However, something told him that he wouldn't be able win Béatrice over that easily. No, he'd had to think outside of the box. He'd have to give her everything he had. It was going to take something spectacular. His lips twitched to the side and he put his hands into his pockets. He felt something in it and pulled out a folded piece of blank paper. Staring at it for a moment, an idea dawned on him. He quickly sat up and patted his chest. He had to have a pen or pencil somewhere on him. Reaching into the breast pocket of his jacket, he found a pen.
Bucky then put the piece of paper down on the bench and began to write furiously. This was something he had never done before. He was going to give Béatrice Faust everything he could. Silently as he wrote, he prayed for a miracle and prayed that he hadn't screwed this up forever.
Alexander sat at his desk in his quarters reading a newspaper intently. He didn't know why he continued to read the rubbish that was printed every day because it was getting to the point where the same news was being reported over and over. He could get a better description of what was truly happening overseas from anyone else. He mumbled to himself, damning the reporters before putting the paper back on his desk. He grabbed a nearby coffee mug and a flask sitting beside it. He opened it and poured the contents of the flask into the coffee mug. It was just one of those days.
Hearing a knock on the door, he groaned, having to set down his mug of whiskey. "It's open" he called out. The door opened and he turned around to see Béatrice walking in. He was surprised, but pleased to see her. However, she still didn't look like herself. She looked tired and even more upset that he had seen her previously. She silently walked over to his desk and sitting in the chair next to it. She looked at him with a blank face and grabbed the coffee mug.
"That's not..." he stopped as she down the mug and made a face as she realized what she had just tasted. "...tea." Her eyes went wide and she jerked her head back ever so slightly, putting the mug back down on the table. She looked back up at him and blinked a number of times. "So, is everything alright...?" his voice trailed off.
"I told him" she replied simply.
Alexander frowned at her statement. He didn't understand what she was saying. Told who what exactly? "You told him...?"
"James. I told him the truth" Béatrice blinked at him.
He felt his mouth fall open. "Oh boy" he said grabbing his flask, quickly opening it, and pouring the rest of the whiskey into the coffee mug. "You need this more than I do." He handed it back to her and she nodded before taking a large gulp from it again.
"Now when you say you told him...how much are we talking?" he looked at her curiously. "The basics of what you do or..."
"Everything" she interjected.
"Everything" he said as his eyes went big, feeling himself going into shock. He grabbed the mug from her and downed the rest of the whiskey swiftly.
"Hey I thought I needed it more?" the German protested, glaring at him.
"We're both too sober for this. We both need it" Alexander looked at her. He paused for a moment and his eyes flicked between his friend and the floor. "So. What did he say?"
"Nothing. Absolutely nothing" Béatrice sighed heavily shaking her head.
The blonde shrugged his shoulders. "Sometimes silence is a good thing. Perhaps he's just trying to wrap his head around everything. It is a lot to process anyway." He stopped talking once more when another realization hit him. His friend had just revealed classified information to another soldier. A recruit of all people. Someone who shouldn't even have access to anything. If that information got out, their entire mission could be compromised. A year's worth of work completely destroyed. "I hate to ask this given the circumstances, but are you sure he can trust him with this information. You know how dangerous it would be if this got out. Everything you've done would be at risk. Your family..."
The brunette nodded her head. "I know...I mean I have no reason not to. We haven't heard anything throughout camp today. He went the whole day without saying anything. I...I...I know I shouldn't have, but...Alexander...I...didn't know what to do...I just..." The rim of her eyes filled with tears and she stopped, shaking her head.
Alexander sat back in his chair, sighing. "You care about him."
"It's ridiculous I know" Béatrice wiped a stray tear from her eye. "It was a terrible decision."
Her friend smiled at her sadly. "No, it's not. When we care about people, we want them to know who we are. Who we really are. Our strengths, our flaws, and everything that makes us simply us. If we don't, then we're not showing our true selves. Did I ever tell you about what happened when I met Evelyn?"
She looked at him strangely. "You met her while dancing? She was being bothered and you stepped in?"
Alexander smiled at her and nodded. "Well yes, but there's more to the story. You see, Evelyn comes from a very prominent family. Her father is a senator and obviously very well off. I'm not. The reason I joined the military was to be able to provide for myself and my family. I had seen Evelyn at that club for weeks, but never could muster the courage to go ask her to dance because what senator's daughter would want to dance with a poor farm boy from southwestern Virginia? However, when I finally did get enough courage to talk to her and I told her the truth you know what? It didn't matter. She looked past it. What mattered was that I cared about her and vice versa. When you care about something, the bad stuff doesn't matter that much."
Béatrice looked over at him and tried to blink away some stray tears that were falling down her face. He reached over and wiped them with his thumb. "And if James Barnes really cares about you like he's acted for the past few weeks; he'll be able to look past this too. If not, well then, he's not worth anymore tears. You deserve better."
She sniffed and nodded her head at him, giving him a small smile. "You're a good friend Alexander. Thank you."
"Don't mention it" he said returning a smile. "Now wipe those tears and I'll walk you back to your quarters. It's getting late."
Alexander and Béatrice walked side by side on the way to her quarters. They kept the conversation light and to a minimum as he could still tell that she was upset and probably didn't want to be bombarded with questions regarding Barnes. As a result, they talked about possibilities of places they may be assigned to once they were finished at Camp McCoy. He told her how he had hoped they would get a few days off so they could go to Washington D.C. together so his best friend could finally meet his future bride. After all, Evelyn had been writing about it nonstop in her letters to him, always asking when he would bring the German woman to visit her after hearing so many wonderful things about her. He was glad Evelyn liked her. He felt that Béatrice would like her as well.
As they approached the quarters, he noticed the brunette stop dead in her tracks, her breath hitching. He frowned at her confusion and looked over to where she was staring. Sitting on the steps in front of her quarters was James Barnes. Alexander had to admit he was surprised. He figured it would take Barnes at least a few days to come around if he did at all. Yet, he was now sitting and appeared to be waiting for Béatrice to return. Did he finally come to his senses or was it something else. He looked over and looked at her. She looked worried as she stared at him.
"Need me to stay?" Béatrice heard Alexander say as he nudged her arm gently.
"No, I'll be fine" she replied her eyes still on James. From the corner of her eye, she could see Alexander's hesitation, but after a moment, he respected her wishes and turned to leave the pair alone. If anything went wrong, he knew she'd come and find him.
It took a moment for Béatrice to move from the spot she was standing. It was almost if she was bound to it, unable a move. Her nerves were slowly creeping up. She wished she had a cigarette on her in that moment and cursed herself for finishing her last one only hours before. Slowly, she began the tense journey closer to him. It felt as though a million thoughts were going through her head. She was indeed curious as to why he was in front of her quarters. Part of her hoped that he had given some thought to what she had said and things would be good between them. However, she was worried that the opposite would happen. Maybe this was his goodbye to her forever. She did kill people after all and she had a few near death experiences. Maybe he didn't want to associate with someone so reckless.
As she approached closer, he stood up. Licking his lips, she could see that there was something in his hand. A piece of paper. She wondered what it was.
She stopped a mere five feet away from him and took a deep breath. "What do you want?" she asked quietly.
James nervously looked at her, fidgeting with the thing piece of paper in his hands. He looked down and then back up at her. "I...I thought about everything you told me. After you left, all I could think about was how I could fix this and well I wasn't sure how, but then...I wrote you something and..." He paused for a moment and took a deep breath. "If it's okay with you, I'd like to read it to you." Béatrice shifted uncomfortably as she stood and nodded her head. She didn't know what to expect from this. Her nerves were growing by the second.
He nodded as well and then looked down at the piece of paper. He took another deep breath. It was now or never, he told himself. What he was about to say would either make or break his friendship...his relationship with the woman standing before him. "Béatrice" he began. "This could be by far one of the stupidest things I have ever done in my life. Normally when I upset a woman, I usually go with sweeping them off their feet by as you have so artfully put it "sweet talking" them. But considering you seem immune to that charm at times, I realized you deserve more. I thought about flowers, but considering it's the middle of winter, we're in the middle of nowhere, and I don't even know your favorite flowers, it wasn't possible. But again, I realized you deserve more than that. I then came to the conclusion that you seemed like the type a person where you didn't need anything. A simple apology would suffice, but you deserve more than just a simple apology. So, this is why I'm writing this. I was a complete and utter idiot with how I reacted to finding out what you did." He stopped for a moment and looked up at her. She was avoiding his gaze and her face was full of confusion. He quickly looked down and went back to reading.
"When I first met you, I didn't know what to make of you" he continued. "I was curious as to who you were and why you were here like everyone else. Why would a German be helping the Americans? It seemed like nothing more than a fantasy. However, when we first met and I talked to you, I realized you were something special. I told you that you had passion in your eyes and it was something I had never seen before. It remains true to this day. I grew more curious about you as a result. I have to admit, you were right about me. When I was in Brooklyn, I could get any girl I wanted, but you instead of falling head over heels for me, you kept a level head and at a distance. You're not easy you know that? Trying to get you to even look at me was not easy, but it made me more determined. Nothing's ever been hard for me and I liked that once in my life I had to work to get to know you. Get your name and anything information about who you were. You were and are by far the most infuriating woman I ever met."
Bucky paused once more and rubbed a hand on the back of his head. He couldn't bare to look up and see her face. He was too afraid to. "The night I walked you home from the bar and we had tea, you finally opened up to me. You were so much more than what I expected. Hearing you talk about your favorite books, your family and why you decided to go against your entire home country allowed me to fully see how passionate, how loyal, and frankly amazing you are. You're not like anyone I have ever met. I meant what I said about you being more than just a German. When I look at you all I see is Béatrice. The girl I would say loves Wonderland more than real life itself. The girl who smokes when she gets nervous. The girl who for once made me work for something. Then when I found out what you did, I couldn't believe it. That the same woman that I had spent so much time getting to know was capable of being a spy, risking her life everyday. You are the strongest, bravest, most selfless person I have ever met. You should be proud of what you do. You save lives. You have saved lives. You're fighting for what you believe in. That's nothing for someone to be upset about. I was a fool for being so upset. For saying all those things to you. I think I was just scared. I just don't want anything to happen to you. For some reason, I'm not sure how I could live knowing something happened."
He swallowed the large lump in his throat as his eyes flicked to his last few sentences. "You said that you hoped I would forgive you. I'm sorry doll, but I won't. Because I have nothing to forgive you for. I'm the one who should be asking for your forgiveness. I am so sorry for everything. I know I may not deserve your forgiveness, but I have only three weeks left with you and I'm determined to make the most of them with you if you'll let me. I'd regret it for the rest of my life if I didn't."
Bucky let out a puff of air and slowly lifted his head up to look at the young woman in front of him. He was taken aback by what he saw. She had tears rolling down her cheeks. She was still avoiding his gaze by looking down at the ground. He watched as she wiped her left check with her sleeve and licked her lips. Moments went by and she kept silent. He felt defeated. She wasn't going to say anything. It was no use. He wouldn't be able to fix things. They were broken beyond repair. Taking a deep breath, he folded the piece of paper and put it into his pocket. He needed to get back to his own quarters and started to walk back to them.
"Is this how all you Americans apologize to a girl you upset or am I just special?" Frowning, he turned around and felt his spirits lifted. Béatrice had a small smile on her face as she looked at him. He had missed seeing that smile.
Walking over to her, he stopped directly in front of her. "You're just that special sweetheart" he shot her a smirk.
"Now you're just trying to sweet talk me" she sniffed as she let out a slight chuckle.
"Is it working?" he asked her raising his eyebrows.
"Maybe" she shrugged her shoulders. She pursed her lips together. "Can I see what you wrote me?" He nodded his head and reached into his pocket and handed it to her.
"Don't believe I wrote it all doll?" he asked her, smirking once more.
"Oh no, I definitely believe you wrote it" she smiled up at him. "I just want to keep it. And for the record, I would argue that this wasn't the stupidest thing you have ever done." The remark caused Bucky to give her a small smile as she put the piece of paper into her jacket pocket before looking back up at him.
The next thing Bucky knew, her arms were wrapped around his neck as she pressed her body against his own, hugging him tightly. He squeezed her just as tight, his arms wrapping around his waist, and sighed heavily. "I'm so sorry" he whispered to her. Béatrice pulled away slightly, leaning her forehead against his own. He could feel her shake her head in protest.
"Let's not talk about it anymore" she breathed quietly. "I forgive you."
He felt an entire weight lifted off of his shoulders hearing those three words. His letter had worked. He still had it. He moved his head away from her own and brushed his lips against her forehead. He felt her stiffen, but she kept any protests she had to herself.
Béatrice felt her heart flutter at the contact of his lips to her forehead. She felt herself tensing, but due to being surprised. Not uncomfortable. His lips against her skin felt nice. It felt right. He pulled away after a few moments and she looked up at him. Her eyes flicked directly to the dark bruise on his face. Reaching up, she brushed her fingers lightly against it. Despite how gentle she tried to be, he still flinched at the contact. "Are you going to tell me what happened?" she finally asked.
He bit his lip and sighed. "Johnson happened."
"James..." Béatrice sighed disapprovingly.
Bucky tightened his grip around her waist. He finally realized that two of them had yet to pull away from one another, not that he minded at all. He titled his head back and looked back down at her. "He insulted you again. I couldn't let him just get away with it. Have to defend your honor after all."
She let out a laugh and shook her head. "Always my avenger" she beamed. Then as gently as she could she placed a hand on his bad check. Standing on her tip toes she leaned forward and pressed her lips right below the bruise. She let them linger there for a few seconds and she could feel his face form on his face. "Thank you James" she breathed pulling away.
He pressed his forehead against her own once more. "Bucky" he replied in a whisper.
She pulled away and looked at him in confusion. "What?"
"That's actually what everyone calls me" he explained. "James Buchanan Barnes, but I go by Bucky. Only my mother calls me James. I just told you it was James the night we met because I thought it sounded better and I guess I was trying to impress you in a way."
"Of course you were" she laughed and rolled her eyes at him. She moved her hands and began fiddling with one of the buttons on his jacket. "So, which would you prefer me to call you? Bucky or James?"
He flashed her a smile that turned into his infamous smirk. "Sweetheart, you can call me whatever you want. Just as long as you keep talking to me."
Her lips curled to the side of her mouth. "Well I like the name James, but for some reason Bucky suits you. And I really don't want to be the other person besides your mother who calls you James. It just seems...odd."
Bucky let out a laugh and pulled her closer to him. "Well I'd say there's your answer doll."
She nodded her head and smiled. "Bucky" she spoke. Her smile grew. "It definitely suits you."
"I'm glad I have your approval" he told in response.
Béatrice licked her lips and looked back at the bruise on his cheek. "You should probably deal with that. Make sure it doesn't get infected or anything." She removed herself from his grip and took his hand in her own. "Come on I have stuff in my quarters." He nodded his head in response and felt his heart beam with joy. Everything was right again. He had three weeks left and it was now time to make the most of it. He was going to do exactly that. Besides, a lot could happen in three weeks.
Rain poured from the sky throughout the camp. The day had started off as a bright clear, but still chilly day. However, by the time the early afternoon came, the skies turned dark and it began to rain. It was a downpour and as a result, the camp started to flood, thus suspending many of the operations for a day, giving the recruits a much-needed rest of the day off. Béatrice stared at the camp from her window inside her quarters as she made tea. She shivered slightly as the heat from her small fireplace barely gave off any warmth.
Turning around, she looked over at her bed on the corner and saw a sleeping Bucky on it. Immediately when the order was given to suspend all operations, he made his way to her quarters taking the opportunity to spend time together earlier than they normally would. They had been sitting on the bed talking and eventually he dozed off on her as she was reading. Leaning against, the window frame, a small smile formed on her lips. He looked so peaceful and content as he slept. Things had been good between them. Better than good actually. The highlight of her days was always spending time with him. He made her feel something that she had never experienced before. Happy and in a strange way loved. That she was the only other person in the world.
Their nightly talks still consisted of everything and everything, except now she was able to my open and honest about her life. She wasn't afraid to tell him anything. How she was frustrated with the Americans for stalling on getting her family out of Germany. How anxious she was when she hadn't heard from family. He listened intently and held her close, trying his best to console her. However, he really didn't know what kind of position she was in. He made it clear one night, but the fact that he just listened to her was enough for her. His company was enough. She was slowly finding that she trusted him with her life.
It scared her in a way. They only had a few short weeks left together. The thought of having to leave him made her sick to her stomach. She didn't want what was slowly building between to end once he was done with training. She wasn't sure what exactly happened between them, but she wanted to keep Bucky Barnes in her life. A part of her hoped he felt the same way, but she was too much of a coward to ask. However, she didn't know if it would be possible. She would be sent God knows where in Europe and from there anything could happen. She'd have missions constantly. He would one day get his orders and for all she knew, they would be no where remotely close to one another. Timing was a horrible thing she decided.
As the tea kettle whistled, it snapped her out of her thoughts. She walked over to the stove and pulled the pot off it. She poured the hot water and tea bags into two cups. Turning around, she walked over to the bed and set the two cups of tea on the bedside table. Bucky was curled up to the side of the bed as he had been earlier when she was sitting on the bed with him. He hadn't moved since she got up and made tea. She crawled on to the bed as gently as she could in order not to wake him. She rolled over on her side to face him and stared silently.
He was very handsome. Probably the most handsome man she had ever met and just being near him made her stomach flutter. It wasn't nerves, but it was a sense of excitement. He wasn't like anyone she had ever met that was for sure. A stray piece of hair had fallen in front of his eyes and she boldly decided to reach over, brushing the strand back into places. Her finger tips ran through his hair ever so lightly, but still caused him to stir. Bucky's eyes slowly opened and he drew in a deep breath before his lips formed a smile.
"Hi" she greeted him in a whisper.
"Hey" he smirked, sitting up on the bed and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. "Sorry I guess I dozed off."
"You're allowed. You've had an exhausting few weeks" she shrugged at him. "I made some tea." She sat up herself and reached over to the bedside table and grabbed one of the cups. She handed it to him and he took it from her.
He smiled brightly and titled his head. "I had a dream about you making me tea" he said before taking a sip.
"And how does it compare to the real thing?" she raised her eyebrows before grabbing her own cup.
He shot her a smirk. "Well in the dream we were in Brooklyn at my apartment instead of being in Wisconsin, so that was nice. You were wearing this blue dress" he paused for a moment and smiled. "You looked beautiful, but the thing about dreams is that they aren't real and I'd take the real version of you any day. However, the nice thing is now I know I can dream about you. I hope I can tonight."
He saw as her cheeks flushed a deep shade of pink. She licked her lips and leaned over to set her cup down on the table. As she turned back, she jumped at him moving closer to her. He was only inches away from her face as he set him cup down on the table as well. She felt her breathe hitch due to his close proximity, but there was another part of her that wanted him even closer to her. His eyes were directly on her own, but would occasionally flicked to something else. She found herself starting stare at his lips. She wondered how it would feel to kiss him. She had never been kissed before.
He leaned ever so slightly forward, closing the gap between the two. "You have beautiful eyes" he finally spoke. Closer and closer he got to her, their lips only inches apart from one another. She felt her eyes slowly close as she prepared for impact.
A knock of the door caused them both to jump and pull away from one another. Bucky silently cursed as to whoever was at the door. He was so close to kissing her. So close. He watched as Béatrice mumbled an apology and got off the bed. Walking to the door, she pulled back a curtain that covered the window.
Alexander stood outside with his jacket covering his head. She opened the door quickly and motioned for him to come in. "Hi" he greeted walking inside. He stopped in his tracks as he saw Bucky standing in the room with his cup now in his hand. It looked as though he was taken aback by the sight. "Oh I'm sorry for barging in then."
"It's quite alright" the German replied shrugging.
"Barnes" the Captain nodded his head.
"McPherson" Bucky replied doing repeating the motion.
Béatrice wouldn't say that the two were finally on good terms, but every since Bucky had apologized to her, it was almost as if there was an unspoken agreement between the two men. To at least be cordial to one another for her sake at least. They both knew they were important parts of her life and that wouldn't change, so they had to at least appear to be civil when around her.
"I got another letter from your father. It's no rush though. With the heavy rain, the radio is out of commission, so it looks as thought we won't be able to get it off to Phillips tonight anyway"
She nodded her head at her friend. "Thank you" she replied taking the letter from him. "Would you like to stay and have some tea?"
The blonde's eyes flicked over to Bucky and then back to her. "Thank you, but I have a letter from Evelyn waiting for me. Besides you're attention is needed elsewhere I would say. I'll see you in the morning." He nodded to the private and winked at his friend before opening the door to leave.
Béatrice looked down at the letter in her hands. She bit her lip, unsure whether or not she should open it now or wait until later. Feeling an arm around her waist, she looked up and saw Bucky looking at her with concern written all over his face.
"You okay doll?" he asked.
She nodded her head. "I always get anxious when I get a letter. I'm always worried its going to have bad news."
He squeezed her gently and nodded. "Sweetheart, if you want to go ahead and deal with that, you can. That's important. I can wait. Besides, I'd kind of like to see you in action, if you're okay with it."
She gave him a small smile. "I'd be more than okay with that." She took his hand that was on her waist and led him to her kitchen table.
The two of them sat down and Bucky instinctively put an arm around her, pulling her close. For a second, he wondered if she was okay with him being so affectionate with her, but she had yet to protest. Would she have wanted to kiss him earlier if they had been given the chance? He had always been very forward when it came to women and while he still was with Béatrice, he felt himself still holding back. He knew why. It was because he would be leaving soon as would she. But he didn't want to. He was dreading the last few weeks because as each day went by the closer and closer he was to leaving. Deep down he knew that one of them would have to bring up where they would go from here once the time came. The timing never seemed to work for the right moment though.
He felt his pesky thoughts completely disappear from his brain as she snuggled closer to him. He watched as she opened the envelope and pulled out two pieces of paper. One with an "X" on it and one without. He remembered how she had explained that her father always marked his coded "weather reports" with an "X" and his personal letter to her without one. She grabbed the one without the "X" and opened it, placing it in front of her face to where he could still read it himself. It hit him how much she truly trusted him to let him read the letter as well.
Béatrice,
I trust you received my last letter. I apologize for it, but as you are aware I am sure, we had visitors and I couldn't risk anything. Your brother has returned to Munich for the time being. He informed your mother and I that he is being transferred elsewhere. I am not sure where yet, but I hope he will tell us soon. He was different during his last visit. Angrier. Almost as though he was hiding something. I fear he may be sinking deeper and deeper into this horrible government. He spoke of how we needed to bring you back from Paris and you needed to come home in order not to be tainted by the French. He also asked if your attitude towards the Jewish people have changed. I do not even recognize the young man standing in front of me anymore. He is no longer my son and if you were here, you would realize he is no longer your brother. I am sorry to trouble you with this, but you need to know the truth.
Your mother is doing well as she can under the circumstances. It's becoming more and more difficult for her. I can tell she wants nothing more than to leave forever and never return. I know you are doing everything you can, but please talk to the Americans. We must leave as soon as possible. I fear for our lives daily. I fear for the moment that we are discovered. I pray that day will never come though.
I have somewhat good news for you even though it may not seem as it. I have learned where Rifka has gone. She was taken to one of the labor camps some Jews are being sent to. A place called Auschwitz-Birkenau. My sources have told me she is alive, but that is all that has been said. No one truly know what goes on into these camps and security is everywhere. Only those involved at the camp are trusted with its workings. Hitler will not even speak of them during meetings. Only a selected few. I will try to learn more as best as I can. Keep hope though. I am positive one day you and your friend will be reunited. She is strong like you are.
Your mother and I both miss you terribly, but we are so proud of you. I know I have written this plenty of times, but it is the truth. Thank you for everything you are doing. You are everything we both could have wanted in a daughter. Come home to us soon.
Love,
Your father
The brunette felt completely flattened once she was finished reading. Luckily, there was nothing too dire in the letter that would constitute as being terrible news, but what her father had wrote did not sit well with her. There was a sense of desperation in his tone and writing. He was worried for everyone's safety. It must have meant things were going from bad to worse at home.
What he said about Christoph also plagued her thoughts. Her brother was slowly slipping away from them. He's good nature was being blackened by the Nazi's and it broke her heart as she read it over and over. Her father was right. Her brother was gone. No more was he the person who made her laugh until she cried or would wake her up late at night to sneak out to their roof to just talk. She had no brother. Not anymore.
There was a sense of relief for Béatrice though. The news of Rifka being alive lifted her spirits somewhat, but she wondered what exactly Auschwitz-Birkenau was. She knew that the Germans had planned one final solution for the Jews, but as to what it was, many, including her father were unaware. Hitler was either being paranoid of his inner circle or extremely selective of who would be told what information. Still, something wasn't sitting right with her. Why would Rifka be sent to a labor camp instead of a ghetto? Were the ghettos no longer the best means for the Nazi's? There was more to this and she hoped her father would be able to find out more.
She put the letter on the table and sighed heavily. Bucky had remained quiet, but she felt him rubbing light circles on her back with his fingertips. She turned her head to look at him before she rested her head on his shoulder.
Again, he felt useless. He could see the look of worry on her face. The letter wasn't bad news, but he could see obviously that it wasn't good news. He knew that she was getting annoyed with the constant pushing aside the military was giving her when it came to her family. This must have only added to it. She signed up for this to get her family out of Germany and yet they were still there. Worrying day and night if something would happen to them. He brushed his lips against her scalp, giving her head a light kiss. "What can I do to help sweetheart?" he asked her.
There was a moment of silence before she spoke. "Can you just hold me?" she asked him. "Could we just pretend for a moment that there's no war? That my family isn't in constant danger? That we don't have to leave soon?"
Bucky cupped her cheek with his hand, brushing his thumb against it, and moving her head look up at him. "I'll hold you as long as you want me to darling. I'm not letting go I promise." He gave her a swift peak on the forehead and wrapped his arms around her tightly, making due on his promise. His chin rested on the top of her head. He wished that everything she had said wasn't happening. He wished there was a way for the Americans to win the war without him having to leave. For her family to be pulled out from Germany. Most importantly, that they didn't have to leave one another. Oh, how he wished that they could have stayed in that moment forever. He didn't want to let her go and deep down he knew that he wouldn't even be able to even if he tried.