Out of all the places in the world, she never expected Bucky to end up in a place like Bucharest, Romania. Though maybe that was the point. No one would even think to look for him there. A perfect place to hide and live without fear of someone finding him out. Except they had. And it was by the grace of modern technology. Something they should've counted more on from the beginning.
They had ended up just wasting time in trying to navigate their way through his muddled and tragic past. All the tactics Q had used in her SHIELD days weren't applicable in this situation. How could they be? Bucky was unlike any mark she had ever had to deal with; what with the being brainwashed, turned into a modern killing machine that could be twisted and molded into whatever Hydra needed him to be whenever they needed him to be it, then somehow breaking out of that and saving someone he had been told to kill. And then he disappeared.
There were too many variables - some she had failed to take into account when moving forward with her plan. She was following the Soldier's path, thinking of him like a threat, when she should've been trying to understand the Man who had been left behind. Understand who Bucky had become after that day on the riverbank.
Hindsight was always twenty-twenty. And it's not like it mattered; in the long run they had found him. Tracked him down to Bucharest. All because of Spencer's phone. That goddamn asshole was still somehow helping her even from beyond the grave. It had been a while since they had figured out Bucky had taken Spencer's phone. Something they weren't even a hundred percent sure of until the ping came through.
Somehow, someway, Bucky had managed to turn on the bluetooth on Spencer's phone which then connected to a nearby beacon. The phone then sent out a location ping to the beacon, activating itself after not being active for however long. Having an alert set on Spencer's phone, just in case, Dawson was able to pick up the source, tracking it back to where it came from.
From there, it was easy enough to figure out where Bucky actually was. Or at least that's what Dawson told her.
For the first several days, they just watched. Kept their distance and watched. The last thing Q wanted to do was set off any alarms. Or do anything to let him know that he had been found. She wasn't sure how he'd react yet. And it had taken them this long to get to him. She couldn't lose him again. Not after everything she went through to find him.
So they watched. Watched Bucky live his, what turned out to be a, rather boring life. It was clear he had a routine: spending his days in his apartment, venturing out when necessary to get food and other necessities, and working nights at the docks. A simple life that Q would've never pegged him to live. Though, again, maybe that was the point.
And then he saw them.
If it was any other time, any time before her time spent in the Hydra facility, Q would've missed it. Missed his double take and then immediate turn into the alleyway that was away from them. But she wasn't allowed to miss anything anymore. Her head made sure of that. So when she saw Bucky duck into the alleyway across the street from them, she knew they had been found out.
"We gotta go." she muttered out to Dawson, getting up from her seat while he watched her with his sandwich half in his mouth. She gathered up their things, slinging her messenger bag over her shoulder.
"Like right now?" he asked without removing the sandwich from his mouth. She gave him a serious look, which made him slump down a bit. Getting up, with the sandwich still in his mouth and being held there by his hand, he let Q toss a few notes onto the table and then followed her out of the small restaurant they had been eating at - waiting for Bucky to walk by as he usually did after his shift at the docks.
"Hey, woah, slow down," he caught up with her as they walked out of the restaurant and onto the street, still eating his sandwich as he did, "Where the hell are we going?"
"He spotted us. Bucky. I mean, he probably spotted us before but this...he bolted." she quickly explained while they headed down the street.
"Okay, and...?" he asked, wanting more of an explanation and an answer to his first question. She gestured with her hands as she talked, faster than usual, always faster than usual.
"If he saw us, recognized us, or me at least, then he probably thinks we're some sort of threat. Come to take him down or something, I don't know. I just know he's probably gonna disappear again. And we can't let that happen." she reminded him with a pointed look. Finishing off his sandwich, he nodded and followed after her.
Of course, she had spent the last several days analyzing all the different ways their first meeting could go down. It was impossible not to think about. She knew how she hoped it would go, but she also knew how it could go. Her brain didn't stop offering up all the different scenarios of what would happen once she made contact with him. It could bad or worse or terrible or maybe okay. And the reaction she just saw was one that she was prepared for. Not the worst one that she had visualized but certainly not the best one either. They just needed to get to him before he left.
Thankfully, the elevator was working in the apartment building Bucky had been living in for however long. It pulled them up to the floor he was on: one that was high enough to get a good view of the city, but low enough that there were still strategic exit points he could get to rather safely. A smart move. Just in case something happened. She figured they were the "something else" in this situation.
Once off the elevator, Q led them down the hallway to where Bucky's apartment was - knowing where it was based off the location ping from the cell phone. That and now she that she had been watching him for the past several days, she could understand his modus operandi a bit better. But she wondered if even he knew what his modus operandi was these days. Still, she stood outside the door for a moment, listening to the movement inside the apartment before lifting her hand to knock. Tentative, not wanting to scare the man on the other side anymore than she already had. She waited a moment before calling out to him,
"Bucky?" she hoped she came off as non-threatening as possible. She wasn't there to hurt him. She just wanted answers. She had spent so long, gave up so much, to find him. She just hoped it was worth it.
There was a long beat of silence that came after. One that would make anyone else think the apartment on the other side of the door was empty. But it wasn't. She knew it wasn't. Again, she knocked, a bit harder this time, but not hard enough to cause alarm.
"Bucky, I...we...we're not...we just want to talk." she tried to explain herself as concisely as possible, "Please, I…" she trailed off, not sure how to sum up everything she had found out and what she had done and been through to get to him. So she waited. Waited for him to respond.
"I don't think he's gonna let you in, Q." Dawson pointed out the obvious. She sent a glare at him from over her shoulder. Now was not the time.
"Bucky, my name is Q." she started to try a different tactic based on their last two interactions, "You saved me in Moldova. Before that you saw me on the riverbank in D.C. after you saved," she swallowed, not realizing she was beginning to get choked up, "Steve...Steve Rogers. And you called me Rebecca. Who is your sister, right? Your younger sister." she paused, glancing down and seeing the shadow beneath the door move at the mention of Rebecca, "Rebecca, she was my grandmother. Your sister was my grandmother." she connected the dots for him, hoping he would understand what she was trying to say. She waited another moment. The shadow hadn't moved.
Keeping one hand on the door, she went into her messenger bag to pull out the Ziploc bag she had kept a few of her grandmother's things in - the important stuff she had found in the basement of her parents: the diary, the letters, a few photos. She gingerly took one photo of Rebecca out of the bag, falling into a crouch outside the door and carefully sliding it under the space between the door and the floor.
"That's her, isn't it?" she asked after the photo disappeared under the door. The shadow didn't move to pick up the photo. Another long moment of silence passed. She glanced over her shoulder at Dawson who was giving her an I told you so look. This wasn't working.
"I think we should go." he concluded, "He obviously doesn't want us here." he pointed out with a gesture to the door. She sighed, not ready to give up yet, "Listen, we found him. That was the goal, right? You wanted to track him down and make sure he was okay. And he is." again, another gesture at the door. Pushing herself to her feet, she watched Dawson's eyes follow her as she pulled herself to her full height. She could tell he was nervous about what was going on, about what Bucky could do to them if he so chose to. He wanted to leave. She didn't blame him.
"No," she disagreed with him and shook her head, "No, no we didn't go through...everything just to be discouraged by a closed door."
"Pretty sure it's locked too." he pointed out with a face. She gave him an unamused look, "Q, come on. We've wasted enough time on this. On him. And you've...we need to figure out what Hydra did to you. Really did to you. Not just guesses based on your weirdly vast knowledge of Rogers." she rolled her eyes at him, "We can get you back to New York, get you checked out by people who actually have doctorate degrees and some real life experience with this shit." he made his case, telling her that his main concern was her. Always surprising to hear, but still nice to know he cared, "C'mon, Q." he tried to convince her.
On the other side of the door, he listened quietly as the two argued about whether or not they were going to leave. He didn't understand their relationship. Were they friends? Something more? Friends didn't fight all the time. Sure, he and Steve had their arguments but the man in the pair seemed annoyed at every word. They couldn't be something more. It didn't make sense. Though the man seemed to care for her own preservation much more than she did. Not Rebecca. Q. The man had called her Q. That couldn't be her name. It was just a letter. Had to be a nickname. Like Becca. Rebecca was Becca. Sometimes. Unless she was in trouble. Or if a guy came to pick her up for a dance. Steve and he went dancing with ladies he had met at the store or the movies.
The picture she had slid under his door was staring up at him. Or rather, Rebecca's face was staring up at him. He stared back, letting his heartbeat fill his ears rhythmically. He had seen this picture before. Been there when it gotten taken. The one-hour photo studio on the corner of Fairfax. His mother had them get portraits every year on their birthday. When was his birthday? Did he have a birthday? He had to. He was alive, right? The face of the young woman, his sister, stared up at him. Not smiling. Why wasn't she smiling? Wasn't she happy? Serious. Because of the photo. His sister. Rebecca. The woman on the other side of the door had a photo of Rebecca. How did she get it? Said it was her grandmother. Rebecca didn't have kids. Wasn't married. Right?
The mention of Hydra got his attention. The hairs on the back of his neck rose, his heartbeat began to speed up, why did they mention Hydra. The Asset was clawing at the back of his mind, desperate to be let out to take care of the two on the other side of the door. The Man was setting off alarms, wanting him to run far, far away. If they were Hydra… He listened close to what followed, wondering if they were about to give away their plan. He could use that against them, use it to get the upper hand and get away. Before he was taken. Before his freedom was taken.
Except they weren't Hydra. That much was clear. A flash of the busy street in Moldova came to the forefront of his mind. Connecting Hydra to the woman on the other side of the door. Not Rebecca. Q. She had been captured by Hydra. Like him. History repeats itself. The marks on her arms. The burns on her temples. The familiar way her eyes flicked around the scenery like she was trying to take everything in all at once. Fist of Hydra. What did they do to her? Sure he had seen her on the street every so often, but those were just glimpses. And the state he had left her in in the middle of Moldova…
Look after your sister. His mother's voice suddenly echoed in his head. Suddenly enough to make his heart clench. To make him have to take a step back from the door. He couldn't remember the last time he had heard his mother's voice. What was her name again? His eyes flicked to the photo on the ground. His sister. Then his gaze shifted to the door. The woman on the other side had said his sister was her grandmother. Which meant they were family. Right? When was the last time he had a family?
Maybe that's why he saved her. He couldn't remember in the moment. When she had asked him if he was going to kill her. He would never kill her. Though he couldn't remember why he said that. It was just a feeling. A feeling he couldn't put his finger on. Maybe this was the reason. Look after your sister.
The digits of his metal hand twitched at the thought. All he had to do was reach out and open the door. He didn't have to let them in. Just let them see. And let himself see too.
The door opened a crack, which made Dawson's eyes flick over her shoulder and got Q to turn to see what was going on. At the sight of a slightly opened door, Q took a step closer, thinking Bucky was inviting them in. But the door stopped at just the crack: big enough to let them see each other, small enough so that there was still a good amount of door between them.
Through the open space, he stared at Rebecca's eyes. No. Not Rebecca. Q. Her name was Q. But she had Rebecca's eyes. Soft brown. Though hers looked much more tired than Rebecca's ever had. Dark circles under them, like she hadn't gotten a good night's sleep in a long time. Him either.
"You have two minutes." he spoke quickly and quietly, not wanting to startle her or let anyone else know what was going on outside his apartment. No need for someone like his neighbor to come out to investigate. At the sound of his voice, she paused a bit, as if not realizing he sounded like he did. Blinking, she returned her attention to him, eyes locking on his.
"Do you know who I am?" she asked carefully. Without the barrier of the door, her voice sounded different. Deeper, raspy like she was sick or hadn't had anything to drink in a while. She looked so hopeful, but he was still playing the defense, just in case. This was risky enough as it was.
"No." he lied to her plainly, pointedly. Though it wasn't quite a lie. He didn't technically know who she was. Just who she looked like. Who she reminded him of. His sister. Rebecca. He noticed her features shift a bit as if she were disappointed by his answer.
"Okay, well, I don't know if you heard what I said while the door was closed -"
"I heard it." he cut her off rather brusquely, "What do you want from me?" he got straight to the point, his grip on the door tightening as he waited for her answer.
"To talk to you." she raised her eyebrows up, clearly feeling as if that was obvious, "Get to know you I mean, I had no idea about any of this until - I've been trying to find you for the last two and a half years. I - I gave up everything. I -"
"I didn't ask you to do that." he got defensive, not understanding why this woman would spend so much time tracking him down. Not understanding why she wanted to get to know him. And frankly, she was beginning to give him a headache.
"Your sister was my grandmother. Rebecca." she ignored his tone, stepping closer. He wanted to pull away, slam the door in her face but the name stopped him. Rebecca. His sister. She had said it before but it felt different this time, "Which makes me your grand-niece. Family" she pointed out before pausing to let it sink in. The word family echoed for a moment, "Isn't there any part of you that wants to get to know me too?" she asked after a moment. He stared at her, not saying anything, not responding to her question. She was a stranger. This could all be a lie. A trick. They had said something about Hydra. What was it again? Were they a part of Hydra? No...but it was something else.
"I think your two minutes are up." he answered with a slight lift of his chin.
"Actually she has fifteen seconds left." the man standing behind Q piped up. To be frank, he had forgotten the man was there. But at the reminder, he sent a withering glare in his direction and let out a small huff of annoyance. His eyes shifted down, noticing she was holding something in her hands. Some sort of plastic bag that had a familiar looking notebook in it. A diary. A birthday present. From him. To his sister. Rebecca. It was more used than he remembered, but the gold design was still etched into the cover. A flower of some sort. He couldn't remember the name.
"Where did you get that?" he asked with a pointed jut of his chin to the diary in the bag. Her eyes followed his before she answered,
"From my parents. Your nephew's house." she reached into the bag and carefully pulled it out. She hesitated for a moment before extending it out to him. Almost like a peace offering. He hesitated just as she had then took it with his flesh hand, gingerly holding it as if he was afraid it would explode. Part of him really was.
"We're staying at an AirBnB a few blocks away." she told him for some reason. He didn't even know what an AirBnB was. Some sort of housing, he assumed, since she said they were staying there, "I...All I want is to get to know you." she gave him what could be considered an almost embarrassed smile.
"I don't think I'm the person you think I am." he responded, not wanting her to get her hopes up that he would be something he wasn't. He wasn't worth getting to know. Especially after everything.
"You're family." she told him, as if that was enough.
And maybe it was.
A/N: She found him! They met! Talked a lil too! I hope you guys liked this chapter and are still interested in this story. Feel free to let me know your thoughts. I love you all!