The soldier watched the woman curiously as she assessed her surroundings. He had known the second she awoke but had not wanted to frighten her by moving. He wasn't sure why it was so important that he didn't scare her, just that it was. He didn't bother trying to decipher the emotion. That always led to a headache, and very occasionally flashbacks. The flashbacks, however, were usually blurry, and unhelpful just leaving the soldier drained and with more questions.
He slowly sat up catching the woman's attention as she backed up, pressing herself against the side of the vehicle. She said something, but it took the soldier a second to click in on actually listening and understanding what she was saying.
"Who are you?" she had asked. The soldier didn't have an answer for her, so he just shrugged his shoulders at her.
"Where are we?" that one was easier.
"Somewhere in rural northern Louisiana." His voice came out scratchy from lack of use. He didn't talk to people very often. He found it much simpler to communicate through actions rather than words.
"What are we doing here?"
The soldier thought about that one for a minute before answering. "Staying safe."
"How long are we staying here? I want to go home." She seemed to be getting more and more upset with each question.
"Not long. You can't go home. Home is not safe." He was growling now. She would be in danger if she went home. He couldn't allow that. He needed to keep her safe.
She was silent for a few minutes staring down at the blankets wrapped around her.
"Where are we going?" She finally asked in a weak voice.
"New York."
"Why? What's in New York?" She looked up at him, meeting his eyes.
"Answers," he replied gruffly before getting out of the car and hopping into the driver's seat.
He could just see the light of dawn sneaking in; meaning they needed to get back on the road. He started the engine with her still huddled in the back, covered in blankets. He turned on the heat and aimed vents her way, hoping to help warm her up. She needed clothes and a fake I.D.
He would stop somewhere in Mississippi at a Target or Walmart. But for now, he was itching to get moving again, being in one place like this, after last night made him nervous.
He made his way onto Interstate 20 headed east. It wasn't as safe as being on the back roads, but he wanted to put some miles between them and Dallas while being inconspicuous as possible. It was much easier to go 80 miles-per-hour on the interstate than on a back road highway.
She stayed silent and in the back for the first two hours. The soldier didn't mind. He liked the quiet. It gave him time to plan. The group was just amateur enough that they probably had a good day or two's head start from them. The soldier's main concern was Hydra picking up on where he was. Once they reached Georgia, they could disappear for a few days and check to see if anyone had picked up on their trail.
He heard her clear her throat from behind him. He looked in his rearview mirror to meet her eyes.
"I need to use the bathroom." she practically whimpered. He looked more closely to see her fidgeting uncomfortably.
He nodded his head to show he had heard her. He pulled off the interstate around Delhi Louisiana. He spotted a dollar general and pulled in.
"Stay here. I'm going to get you some shoes." She nodded still squirming.
"I wear size 7s."
He nodded grabbed a ball cap and a pair of sunglasses from his glove compartment. Made sure most of his weapons were hidden and made his way inside. He found some flip flops for a dollar, paid for them and quickly returned. He tossed them to her before pulling out and stopped at the Chevron just down the street that had an outdoor bathroom. He parked the car, and before he could move, she was out the door and sprinting for the bathroom. He moved almost as quickly to flank her. She was in the bathroom, closing and locking the door in a blink. He waited patiently outside while she used the necessity.
He clocked the area with his sweeping gaze. It was around nine thirty in the morning, so it was relatively busy with commuters stopping for gas on their way to work. He saw a few families leave, while a few more pulled up. He heard the tell-tale sign of the door unlocking behind him, and he turned to meet the woman's eyes. He led her back to the car, which still had three-quarters of a tank. She climbed in the passenger seat closing the door behind her.
"Thanks." She mumbled.
He nodded his head in response. He pulled back onto the interstate headed east towards Georgia. He saw her in the corner of his eye snatching glances at him.
"My name's Lucy by the way." She said.
A shiver ran down the soldier's spine at the sound of her name. His eyes lost focus, the only thing that kept him from running the car off the road was his inhuman reflexes and his need to keep her safe. He would probably be able to walk away from an eighty mile-per-hour crash but she wouldn't.
The name Lucy jarred something in him, and he staved off the flashback by shoving back all his emotions and focusing on just being a soldier. He had done it enough times over the last 70 years. It helped keep him away from the chair. Every time he tried to remember they would shove him in the chair, so he stopped bothering to remember.
He pulled off at the next exit and drove blindly down the road until he found a pull off point where he could stop the car without putting the woma-Lucy at risk. He shoved the door open and bent over his knees breathing hard. He finally allowed himself to feel all those emotions in a relatively safe place. He let his mind to be dragged back:
"Hey, Bucky you gonna show me or what?"
A small boy stood in front of him with brilliant blue eyes and blond hair. He looked like a single strong gust could send him keeling over backward. He heard himself chuckle
"Cool it Punk. It's in a personal place I don't show off all that much." He said to the boy
"Jerk. Come on Buck. You got your's before mine I wanna see." There was a whining note that had entered the kid's tone.
He heard himself sigh then looked down to lift his shirt and pull his pants down ever so slightly to reveal a mark. A name. It was right above his penis between his obleks and could be hidden mostly by the waistband of his pants. He couldn't make out what it said just that it was there and he knew it was a name.
He looked up to see the kid staring at it in awe. The kid opened his mouth to speak
Bucky was jerked back to the present by a hand on his right shoulder. From his bent over position, he looked up to see Lucy staring at him with worry in her eyes. He stumbled to the left away from her touch. He frantically lifted his shirt and pushed down his pants enough to stare at where the mark had been in his flashback. Where the mark had been, there was now a jagged scar cut into his flesh that obscured it. He could see the dark smudges that hinted at a name but were now unreadable. They had stolen his mark. Ripped the name of his soul mate from him and buried it in pain and scars. He was broken.
He heard a gasp and looked up to see Lucy covering her mouth with shock.
"How… how did this happen?" She almost whispered.
The soldier just shook his head and recovered his skin. He had forgotten that they had stolen his soul mate's mark from him, and then they had tortured him with the chair until he forgot his soul mate's name. They had destroyed not just his mind and body but also his soul.
He couldn't take all these emotions he had to shut them off. He flipped the switch in his brain and allowed the soldier to take full control of his mind once more, burying the man he once was back down. It was too painful.
He focused back on the crucial things. They needed to get out of here. He had to protect Lucy. Answers could wait until they reached New York.
He looked over at Lucy and gestured for her to get back in the car so they could be back on the road. She climbed in, and he got them back on the interstate. About ten minutes after they had gotten on the interstate Lucy reached over and fiddled with the radio.
Soon he could hear the sounds of music filling the car. He grunted in surprise when she started to sing along.
"But this ain't my first rodeo someone's gonna get hurt-"
She looked over at his expression and grinned. She reached over and turned down the dial to the music.
"Bucked off by Brad Paisley," she said as if that was an explanation.
He grunted back.
"I'm guessing you don't listen to country." She said.
"I don't listen to music." He replied.
She looked at him aghast, then started sputtering "but-but music is wonderful, how could you not?"
He shrugged again. "I wasn't allowed to. It would distract from the mission, so I don't."
"Allowed by who?" She asked curiosity entering her voice.
"My handlers."
"Well, are you on a mission now?"
The soldier had to think about that one. Yes, he was on a mission. But not one that had been assigned to by any handler. He had left that life behind, but it was still hard to think about that. It had only been three months.
"No" he finally replied.
"Great." He glanced over to see her beaming at him.
She turned the radio back up and started singing along again but to a different song.
He listened to her voice. She sang slightly off-key, but her voice was still beautiful and captivating. It helped pass the time. She sang along for the next thirty minutes before she turned the radio down once more and glanced over at him.
He met her eyes before flicking them back to the road.
"Do you have a favorite genre of music?"
He grunted back.
"You should. Let's find you one. I'll keep switching the stations until you hear something you like."
She turned the radio up and started flipping while she talked.
"I was listening to country, this station sounds like pop."
The soldier listened for a second before shaking his head. He didn't like the sounds. She flipped it again.
"Oh, this is gospel."
He shook his head almost immediately. He didn't want anything church-related. He didn't deserve it.
The station changed again. The lilting sound of flutes and other wind instruments filled the vehicle. It was followed by strong percussion.
He could feel Lucy staring at him, waiting for him to nod or shake his head. He didn't do either just listened. It sounded familiar like something from long ago.
A smile seemed to tug at the corner of his mouth with the familiar sounds. He could almost picture being wrapped in a warm hug in a beat up old apartment that smelled of delicious food and the constant strain of classical music cracking from the radio.
"So you're a classical fan. That's good to know."
He just shrugged. He didn't think he was a fan as much as it was familiar to him. It reminded him of a better time even though the memories were covered in a black haze of pain. The feelings still occasionally came through especially when there was a trigger. This is one of the better triggers, producing a happy thought rather than a knock-down-drag-out flashback, that left him soaked in sweat and shivering.
Lucy left the radio on as they drove the rest of the way to Jackson Mississippi. The made it there around 10:00 A.M.
Once they got there, the soldier made his way to a Walmart so they could pick up some clothes for Lucy and some food for the road. He wanted to get to Georgia and hidden somewhere where he could keep an eye out for anyone following them.
Lucy had fallen asleep at some point in the last thirty minutes. She blinked her eyes open slowly and looked around.
"Sooooo what are we doing in the parking lot of a Walmart?" She asked.
"Supplies," he grunted at her before opening the car door and getting out. She followed sluggishly behind in her booty shorts, flip-flops, and his long sleeve shirt that hid her shorts when she stood up.
When she got up, she tucked the shirt into the front of her shorts, then walked beside him into Walmart.
The soldier hated being around this many people but they needed supplies, and this was the easiest and cheapest way to do it. It was also good to blend into a large crowd when they were in public.
The entered the super Walmart on the grocery side. The soldier placed a hand on the small of Lucy's back and guided her towards women's clothing.
"You need clothes," he said when she gave him a questioning look.
She nodded at him then asked. "What are the limits" The soldier was pleased she didn't argue.
"The minimum you can get by with for three weeks. If we need more, we will stop later. Don't worry about the price. Stay safe, I'm going to get other supplies."
The soldier was loathed to leave Lucy on her own, but he was more concerned about getting out of there as quickly as possible. He made his way around the store picking up camping bedding, toiletries, food, and other little necessities.
In the end, the cart was filled with:
Two sleeping bags
Ground Mat
Two camp pillows
A towel
A washcloth
A toothbrush (for Lucy, he had one stashed in his travel bag)
Toothpaste
A bar of soap
Female supplies (he wasn't sure what to get, so he grabbed a random pack of pads and one of tampons)
Women's deodorant
Canned fruit
Box of granola bars
Water bottles
A soft suitcase
And a 6 pack of toilet paper
He made his way back to the women's clothing section to find Lucy. He located her looking at socks. She had a group of clothing draped over her left arm as she grabbed a pack and turned around almost running into him. He instinctively reached out his hands and grabbed her upper arms to steady her. She made a squeaking noise and looked up at him.
"Oh, it's you." She said relieved. She looked past him to see the cart he had filled with their supplies. "That's a lot of stuff." She finally commented.
He grunted in acknowledgment before grabbing the items out of her arms and tossing them into the cart. He cataloged the items she had grabbed they included:
3 pairs of jeans
5 t-shirts
A sweatshirt
3 pairs of black leggings
2 packs of underwear (6 pairs in each)
4 sports bras
3 pairs of shorts
3 tank tops
A rain jacket
And the bag of socks she had just grabbed (8 pairs)
He nodded his head in satisfaction at her choices. Good clothing for travel. She still needed shoes a winter coat, and a reliable pair of sweatpants wouldn't go amiss. He wasn't sure why he cared so much about her comfort, just that he did. If it was just him, he could get by on one pair of clothing and sleeping on the ground, but he wanted better for her.
He couldn't spoil her, not with them being on the run but he could do better than just the bare minimum.
They moved quickly through the store grabbing her a pair of running shoes, a winter coat and a pair of sweatpants before checking out. He paid with cash and moved them to the car as quickly as possible.
They packed her clothing in the bag, except for a pair of jeans, t-shirt, sports bra, pair of socks, pair of undies, and the running shoes. They didn't have time for her to change now but later down the road they would. They climbed in and got back on the road. They were at half a tank, but that could wait until they were farther down the road. The Walmart had cameras, and he was sure there was facial recognition software searching for his face everywhere, Hydra was relentless. He needed to get them as far away as possible and into a rural area where they could lay low and set up a protective perimeter to catch anyone tracking them.
He got them away from Jackson before backtracking down a side road or two before he got them somewhere in Alabama on a dirt back road before parking the car. In the middle of the woods by a creek.
It was around 7 pm by the time they stopped. About an hour after they had left Walmart, Lucy had fallen asleep. When the soldier turned off the car, the lack of noise must have disturbed her, because she slowly blinked her eyes open and sat up to look around.
"Where are we?" she asked sleepily as she rubbed her eyes.
"Somewhere near the Alabama and Georgia border. I'm not sure which side." He spoke as he rolled his neck to get the kinks out of it after so much driving.
"Soooo I was thinking about this earlier but forgot to ask. Do you have a name or something I should call you by?" Lucy sounded hesitant.
He leaned back and thought about that. All he could remember being called was either the asset, the soldier, or the weapon. None of which he wanted to go by anymore. In the flashback he had had, the kid had called him Bucky. He rolled the name around his brain and sounded it out silently. He liked it. He wasn't sure if it was a nickname he had had or his actual name, but it felt right.
"Bucky." He rasped out finally. "I think I used to go by Bucky."
"Bucky," she repeated slowly testing it out as he had. She finally smiled and nodded. "I like it. It suits you."
He wasn't sure how to respond to that, so he didn't. Instead, he focused on their surroundings and where he would set up some traps. Here was as good a place as any to catch anyone following them.
Bucky got out of the car and moved around it until he could open up the trunk. He pulled out the other bag in the car that he had left there weeks ago. He hadn't needed to use it since moving into the apartment in Dallas, but it looked like he would need to now. He rummaged inside and pulled out the trip wire. He moved about 50 yards away from the car and started laying traps around the area. Some were made to trap while others would just set off a warning. They would only be staying the night, so he wasn't too worried, but he'd preferred to be prepared. There was no one around for miles, meaning it would be challenging for them to sneak in the number of men they would need to take him down.
The whole process took him about thirty minutes, then he headed back to the car and Lucy. He found her sitting in the open trunk with her feet dangling about 4 inches from the ground. She had changed into jeans and a t-shirt, but her feet were still bare. She didn't seem to notice him until he was about 3 feet away. She looked up with a blank expression, which was unusual for her. She always seemed so expressive. The blank look was more his thing than hers.
He wasn't sure what to do so he just stood uncertainly about a foot away from her. She gave him a weary smile and patted the trunk next to her. He moved awkwardly toward her and sat beside her causing the whole car to shift under his weight.
He stiffened ever so slightly when she leaned her head against his left shoulder. No one did this. No one actively showed any form of physical contact that did not result in pain. He was used to the pain, knew how to process it. He didn't know how to process this.
"I feel like I don't know you very well Bucky. Can you tell me more about yourself?" She asked quietly.
He didn't know how to respond to that, so he just stayed silent. She didn't seem to mind though. Instead, she asked:
"Like how old are you?"
He didn't actually know. He knew he was older than he looked if you ignored the scars riddling his body. But he didn't know how old.
"Old." He finally decided to say.
She snorted. "That's not a good answer. I'm 21."
He stayed silent. He was very confused by this female. She asked about strange things and did strange things. Didn't she realize he was a monster?
"Ok how about an easier one. What's your favorite color?"
That was an odd question to ask. Why did that even matter? Did he even have one? He liked blue.
"Blue, I guess?" He sounded uncertain even to his own ears. He almost wanted to cringe. He used to be better at this. That thought gave him pause. What did he use to be better at? And just like that, he was dragged down into another flashback:
"Why are you dragging me to this again?" He looked over to see the same blond haired, and blue eyed kid walking beside him kicking a can.
"You know I need my best wingman Steve." He heard himself say as he put his arm around the kid and pulled him in for a noogy.
The kid pushed him off and glowered at him.
"You just want me around Buck so you can have both ladies to yourself."
They stopped to stare at each other. The kid had his arm crossed over his chest and was glaring at him.
"Steve you know just because I'm good with the ladies, doesn't mean I don't want you to find a girl. I'm here for you punk, what'd' ya' say?"
The kid unfolded his arms and sighed in defeat. "Jerk," he grumbled then gave a dazzling smile that lit up his old face before punching Bucky and taking off at a sprint while Bucky chased him, laughing.
He slowly came back to himself. He was still sitting on the edge of the open trunk and Lucy was leaning against the arm. She was silent while he shook his head trying to bring himself fully back to the present.
"You were out of it for a little bit there. What's up?" she finally said in a calm, quiet voice that he greatly appreciated at that moment.
"A flashback I think," he said rubbing the thumb and forefinger of his right hand on the bridge of his nose to try and stave off the headache that was building after the flashback.
She hummed then asked. "Tell me about it?"
"It's not really all that interesting." he tried to deflect.
"Tell me anyway?" she asked.
There was no pressure in her voice just curiosity. He sighed deeply but for whatever reason decided to indulge her in this.
"I was with a…. friend I think. I called him Steve. I've seen him before in other flashbacks. Anyways we were talking about a double date I was dragging him to."
"Sounds like a nice memory." She stayed silent for a second before hesitantly forging ahead. "So I've kind of guessed this but just wondered if you could confirm. You don't remember a lot of your life do you?"
He wooshed out a painful breath at her words. "No, I don't,"
They were both quiet, she seemed satisfied with his answer, but he thought she deserved more of an explanation. Again he wasn't sure why he felt so strongly about this, just that he did. His emotions had gone entirely out of control since meeting her. It had been so easy to stuff them down before he heard her scream.
"It's...It's painful to remember, so I don't." He finally said.
"I'm sorry it hurts so much. I wish there was something I could do to make it better." She sounded sleepy.
He looked down to see that her eyes had closed and he head leaned more heavily against his metal arm. That metal arm contained very minimal feeling. Enough to know when something was touching it, but not the texture or how much pressure there was.
He had never wished for more feeling in that arm before now. He wanted to know what she felt like leaned against him. Even with his aversion to physical touch due to the expectation of pain, he knew subconsciously that her touch would never be painful.
They stayed like that for what felt like an eternity and yet not enough time before she sighed and hopped off the trunk. He reached out and grabbed her before she could take a step though.
"You should be wearing shoes." He said in explanation.
She looked down at her bare feet as if surprised that she wasn't wearing shoes.
"Back home, I walked barefoot everywhere."
"Where is home?" He asked curiously.
"Virginia. You?"
"Brooklyn."
He was surprised at himself, he hadn't known that until she asked but now that he thought about it he could see the streets of Brooklyn as he walked them with Steve. His friend, maybe even his best friend. The rest was still fuzzy. He had done enough soul searching for one day.
"Wait here, let me get you your shoes."
She nodded in acquiescence as he made his way to the passenger side door of the front seat to grab the dollar store flip-flops. He brought them back and handed them to Lucy, she put them on and started walking away from the car.
"Where are you going?" He asked.
She froze, then turned to face him. She was wringing her hands and couldn't meet his eyes. She looked nervous.
"I...I need to go to the bathroom." she finally mumbled.
If it weren't for his advanced hearing, he wouldn't have heard her.
"I'll show you where it's safe. I left traps and here let me grab you some toilet paper."
She gave him a small smile at that. He hurriedly searches through the bags until he was able to open up the toilet paper pack and grab her a role. He handed it to her as well as the flashlight he had tucked in the back too.
He gently grabbed her arm to help guide her so she wouldn't trip about 20 feet from the car and behind a large oak tree. It blocked her view from the car, but that's what she would want. Privacy was important. He understood that probably better than most people. He hadn't privacy for years. Every little thing he did was watched like a hawk. From him using the bathroom, to his assassination shots. He was constantly under surveillance. You learned to tune it out and get over it. But he never wanted that for her. Any humiliation he could spare her he would.
He left her and headed back to the SUV, she didn't need to know that his hearing was acute enough that he could pick up a fox moving through the underbrush thirty feet from them, let alone her movements. He would give her as much privacy as he possibly could while still keeping her safe.
He decided to set up the two sleeping bags in the back of the car with the pillows. He tried to make the makeshift bed look as inviting as possible despite its crudeness and his lack of ideas of what she would like. After that, he checked all his weapons on his body.
The inventory included five guns, nine knives, and two tasers currently. That was good enough, plus his sniper rifle. He grabbed his sniper bag out of the car and slung it over his shoulder. He had already spotted a good tree, that would give him an excellent view of the surrounding area while still keeping him close enough to the car that he could be to it in thirty seconds if need be. It was a little riskier than he liked, but the car was the safest place for her to be since he had changed the windows to bulletproof glass. If they fired a bazooka, the glass wouldn't be able to stop it, but he would hopefully have drawn their fire, and/or killed the person beforehand.
Bucky heard her returning from the old oak. There was a slight spring in her step that hadn't been there before. She beamed at him. He honestly did not understand Lucy at all. He wondered how she could still smile at him after what she had witnessed and what he had put her through over the last two days.
"Thanks," she said when she was within speaking distance.
He grunted at that. He gestured toward the bed he had attempted to make for her. She smiled again, lighting up her eyes.
"Is this for me?" She whispered, sounding almost unbelieving.
He nodded, not trusting himself to speak with so much emotion filling the air. The fact that he had been able to make her happy filled him with a warmth that he hadn't remembered feeling for a very long time. Not since before Hydra.
She climbed in, kicking off her flip-flops before she could get any dirt from their bottoms on the sleeping bags. She turned and looked back at him almost expectantly. He cocked his head in question.
"Aren't you coming in too?" She asked unsureness covering her face and evident in her voice.
He shook his head. "I can better protect you from up there." He pointed in the direction of the tree he had in mind.
She looked through the window at it, noticing that the lowest branch was about eight feet off the ground. She then looked back at Bucky.
"But Bucky what about sleep?" She asked.
"Don't need it," He said succinctly. He could go seventy-two hours without sleep. Granted it wasn't exactly comfortable, but it was doable. Twenty-four hours was nothing. Their enemies were much more likely to attack in the dark than they were to attack during the day. As long as he grabbed a cat nap in the morning before they left he would be fine.
She gave him almost exasperated sigh and a look. It reminded him of how another person used to look at him, he just couldn't quite remember who, and now was not a good time to go into flashback mode. He needed his wits about him. Especially with the night encroaching in on them fast.
He closed the back hatch of the car before she could say anything to contradict his decision or statement. Her safety was his top priority, not his health. He locked the car for good measure, then made his way on silent feet to the tree. He leaped with ease grabbing the lowest branch with his metal hand and using his momentum to swing himself up and into the branches. He scurried his way up with ease, finding a suitable perch that gave him an excellent view of the surrounding area.
He unpacked his rifle and put it together, cradling it in his arms like a child. This rifle had gotten him out of more than one tight spot. He trusted it more than he trusted people. Well, maybe not as much as that kid Steve that kept showing up in his memories.
He wondered yet again, why the kid was so important to him. And why that guy who dragged around the shield and was called Captain America drew him like a moth to a flame. He had thought about looking into the guy, but every time he tried thinking about Captain America too much he got a horrible headache that completely incapacitated him as his whole body rebelled from the pain.
He had been able to give himself time to adjust to other things before tackling that issue. But now, it couldn't wait any longer. Not with Lucy. She had moved up his plan by months. He had wanted that time to ease himself into all those painful walls. Instead, he felt like his head was about to be smashed into the wall whether he liked it or not.
He heard movement coming from the left and lifted the rifle up to his shoulder and looked down the scope as he clocked the noise and repositioned himself in the branches. He spotted a herd of deer moving through the trees and grazing as they went. A few of the does' were heavily pregnant, reminding him that spring was right around the corner — not a bad thing.
He remembered liking spring and fall, but not summer or winter. Summer was too hot, and winter was…..
He was in a bedroom, in a run-down apartment. He looked down at a roughly 10-year-old Steve. He watched as Steve coughed violently, shaking not only his small form but the whole bed. Bucky rubbed a hand along his back while he sat beside the kid. He noticed that Steve was wrapped in a mound of blankets and Bucky's own toes felt numb. He looked out the window to see heavy flakes of snow falling and building up on the apartment building across the alley. It wasn't the best view, but it was the best Steve's mom could afford on her own.
He felt Steve shiver after the coughing fit, clutching the blankets around himself as tightly as possible.
"B.. I..I'm s..ss... cold" he heard Steve chatter.
"I know punk. Hold on." Bucky familiarly pulled the covers back from Steve and climbed under them wrapping his arms around the skinny kid.
Steve continued to shiver, but he also snuggled into Bucky's arms seeking the older kid's warmth. Bucky held on tight until Steve stopped shaking and his labored breathing, lengthened into that is sleep.
Bucky pulled himself out of the memory and shook his head, trying desperately to clear it. Now was not the time to be having flashbacks and regaining memories. Now it was about keeping Lucy safe.
He closed his eyes, laying his head back against the tree and opened up his other senses. Focusing more on smell and hearing.
His hearing felt like it flowed out to encompass the space. He could hear the rustling of a mother mouse as she returned to her den to feed her hungry babies. A vole was sniffing at a tuner under the ground below his tree. He could hear the faint sound of digging below him.
His sense of smell did the same. He could smell the sweet scent of spring filling the air, a dead kill made by a predator on the wind. The scent was roughly a day old, so the body was probably stored somewhere by a fox or other predator.
He focused his senses back on the clearing, where the car was sitting. He could hear the vehicle rocking every now and again as it groaned ever so slightly. Lucy must be having difficulty getting comfortable.
He almost felt guilty about that, but he needed to shut down those emotions and become the soldier fully. He had one mission: to protect Lucy.
Lucy shifted her body again. She was extremely grateful to Bucky for everything he had done for her, but this wasn't something she was exactly used to. Her family never camped, or really went on vacations for that matter. Her dad was a farmer, and her mother was a nurse. Plus she was the youngest of four.
They didn't really have the money to afford to go on vacations. Not only was she not used to all this, but she was worried about Bucky. He was out all alone in the night sitting in a tree of all things. She had watched him through the window of the car as he flung himself up in the tree with a level of grace that seemed impossible for his bulk.
He definitely couldn't be human, or not fully human, not with that move. But that raised the question of who was he? Lucy shook her head and buried her chin more thoroughly into the sleeping bag. She kept running into more questions than answers.
She thought back to the mark on her inner thigh. She had decided to not look up the name of her soulmate on the internet. She didn't want to have a preconceived notion of who he was as a person before she met him. But now after everything that had happened. It seemed she needed to look it up whether she liked it or not. The only problem, she didn't have access to a computer, phone, or other electronic devices that she could access the internet from.
Maybe they could stop at a library somewhere…
Steve leaned back in his desk chair and rubbed his eyes. His neck felt tight, and it was hard for him to see straight after sitting at the computer for the last two hours. He wasn't fully used to all this technology yet, but that was ok. Sam was supposed to arrive in the next 10 minutes or so to help.
There had been practically no word on Bucky for the last three months. Not since his once best friend had pulled him out of the Potomac.
Steve got up and stretched his large body, working out the kinks. His stomach growled, reminding him he hadn't had dinner yet. He had been so caught up in research that he had forgotten to eat. This was unusual for him in normal circumstances, but looking for Bucky seemed to always take priority over everything else no matter what.
He heard a knock at his apartment door and quickly headed over to it, pulling it open, allowing Sam to enter.
"Hey man, how's the search?" Sam asked as he slapped Steve on the back.
Steve just shook his head as he closed his apartment door and walked over to flop on the living room couch.
"Well then I'm glad I'm here because I have a lead," Sam said, sounding casual.
Steve's head had been resting against the back of the couch with his eyes closed, but at Sam's words, he snapped upright and leaned forward intently seeing a smug look on Sam's face.
Steve took the time to actually look at Sam. He wore his usual jeans and a nice shirt, but he held a folder in his hands that Steve hadn't noticed before.
"Yea?" Steve asked, on edge with hope.
"Yea, turns out roughly two weeks ago someone registered a new soul mark name."
Steve shrugged, "So? That happens all the time. Why does it matter?"
"Well, the name that was recorded is the interesting part. It was James Buchanan Barnes."
Now Steve understood. He shot up from his seat and started pacing the apartment. He remembered the name Bucky had shown him all those years ago. How could he not? She was the soul mate to his best friend. Lucy Camille Elliot. The registration system was new though. It had been established in the 60s with the civil rights movement. For the civil rights groups, it was a way of showing that whites and blacks were equal. For the anti-civil rights groups, it was a way of finding the people that had racially different soul mates and label them as damaged and lock them up.
Bucky and his soul marks had never been registered. But having Bucky's name show up was definitely an interesting development.
"What do you know about her?" Steve asked as he stopped pacing to lean against the arm of the couch.
Sam flipped open the folder and started reading from it. "Well, it looks like she's 21, getting a degree in psychology and lives in Dallas." Sam stopped speaking.
Steve looked at him and gave a raised eyebrow. Sam cleared his throat, hesitating.
"Tell me," Steve said tensing.
"Well, I did some digging and found out that yesterday night her place was broken into. Two dead bodies were found in it, another was on the sidewalk below the window. It looked like he was tossed out of it. Also on the other side of the street. On the roof of a building was another dead guy. He was shot in the back of the head, and he was carrying a sniper rifle.
"It was big news in Dallas. The neighborhood, she was living in is used to gunshots and what not. Hence why it took so long for anyone to call it in or police to arrive on the scene. No one has seen or heard from her since. She is currently labeled as a missing person's case."
Steve had started pacing again, halfway through Sam talking. "Any evidence that Buck was there?" Steve asked.
"No confirmation, but what little I could get through my contacts, the kills were done be a professional, with a lot of skill and strength. A man's windpipe was crushed by one hand. It could be him, Steve. But I don't want you to get your hopes up. He may not even know that he has a soulmate anymore, not after what Hydra did to him."
Steve nodded, knowing Sam was right. It was just so hard for him to feel helpless. He wanted to help Bucky. He wanted his best friend back.
"I'll ask Stark if I can use the quinjet and we will head to Dallas in the morning. See if we can gather more information on site." Steve paused before plopping back on the couch. "If it is Buck, then she's in safe hands. Whether he knows she's his soulmate or not. No one else can hide as well as he can. He's the master of subterfuge." Steve finished with a sigh.
"But he also would be taking care of Lucy. She doesn't have his skills, making it more likely they would be spotted." Sam added.
"Then we better hope we can get to them before anyone else if that does happen."
Sam nodded before flinging the folder on the coffee table getting up and walking to the apartment door. "I'll see you in the morning Cap," Sam said as he closed the door behind him and headed for his own apartment across the hall in Avengers tower.
Steve picked up the folder that Sam had left him, opening it up. The first thing he saw was a picture of Lucy. She was dressed in a graduation gown and was holding up a diploma to the camera. She was average, brown hair, brown eyes. Nothing spectacular. But on closer inspection, Steve saw a twinkle in her eyes that lit up her smiling face. She looked the picture of innocence and happiness. He liked her, Steve decided.