IV: Nightmares
They walked along the path Bucky had traced with Chance earlier, mostly because Chance was still guiding them along this little tour of the city. They had strolled along in silence, it was a comfortable quiet. Yet, it was at this point, Bucky also realized normal people made conversation. They spoke about their lives, their occupations, their families.. he nixed those subjects. None of those were things he could talk about. Still, there had to be something. Bucky mentally recapped the last seventy years or so, according to what he could remember. Should he tell her about the time he killed President Kennedy? Don't be stupid, he thought. Well, damn. What the hell could he say?
"It's uh, nice outside today."
Emma bit back a laugh. Oh god, she thought, he's going to try to small talk. "It is." She replayed his voice in her head and said, "Where are you from?" He looked up from the ground, a spark of uneasiness evident in those blue eyes. Jumpy, she concluded. "Your accent sounds American."
"New York." He smiled without meaning to. He saw his old neighborhood, heard his mom calling out to him to come inside as the sun was going down. "Brooklyn." He instantly regretted being specific.
But her genuine excitement at the response made him less wary. "New York? I've always wanted to go to New York."
"Your accent sounds French." He blurted out. He needed to work on his conversational transitions. Why was socializing so stressful?
Emma didn't notice Bucky's internal distress and took the question in stride. "It is but I haven't stepped in France for years." She gave a bitter chuckle. "The accent is the only thing I have left from there."
"It's a beautiful language."
She was taken aback by the solemn tone of his statement. He didn't say much, but the little he did say was sincere. Still, she couldn't help but tease. "Do they speak French in Brooklyn?"
"Seulement quand nous causons des problèmes," he replied without missing a beat. Emma laughed, pulling another smile from Bucky as well. His face was starting to hurt but he liked her laugh.
"I'm impressed," Emma admitted. "Where did you learn to speak perfect French?"
He clenched his jaw, piecing together a half truth that he could remember later. "I was in the army. Traveled around for a while."
She nodded, noting the shift in his demeanor. He withdrew back into himself again. PTSD, maybe? Emma glanced at him from time to time, studying the rhythmic sound of his steps. They were off, just a bit. He walked with a lean emphasized on his left. An old war wound? And speaking of wounds, she had to get back home where Felix was anxiously tending to Wolf. Either way, Steve wouldn't remain a mysterious stranger for long. Their paths would cross again, she was sure of it.
"Well," Emma broke away and started off on a side street that diverged eastward. "This is my stop. It was nice to meet you, Steve." She waved at Chance. "Be good, take a bath."
This is the part where I would say something, Bucky thought. This is the part…
"Hey sweetheart, how about we go out for a dance tonight?"
No, not that. Quick, she's leaving.
But try as he might, the words wouldn't form. The moment was gone and so was she.
Chance whined.
Bucky sighed. Maybe this version of himself was supposed to be alone. "Come on," he told Chance. "You do need a bath."
Emma arrived to find Wolf fast asleep on the couch. They had carefully taken off his clothes and wrapped him in a thick blanket that resembled the fur of an adult grizzly bear. Luckily his nose wasn't broken like they originally suspected but the same could not be said for his arm. It was a spiral fracture that they would take care of later. According to Felix, he "knew a guy" and Emma wasn't questioning it. There was nothing else they could do now but give him pain meds and ice his injuries. The right side of his face was completely swollen and the pooled blood underneath turned his skin violet. Wolf looked like he had gotten into a bar fight with the Hulk and lost, badly. Emma brushed back his hair softly, caught somewhere between crazed anguish and a hunger for vengeance.
"You're back," Felix rubbed his eyes and felt a kink in his neck as he woke up from his slumber at the kitchen table.
Emma tugged off her shoes and joined him at the table. "He hasn't said a word?"
Felix shook his head and stared at his brother. "Nothing." He turned back to Emma, saying his next words slowly. "You don't think..?"
"Echis did this?" She finished. "Who else?"
"That doesn't make sense. We already agreed to his terms."
"Maybe he's sending a message? If you disobey, this is what happens to you." Emma felt a surge of guilt. Was Echis willing to maim his best foot soldier because she had resisted to bend to his will?
Felix seemed to sense this. "No, this was too brutal. This was fury." Emma's lip trembled and she quickly covered her mouth. She couldn't break down, she needed to be strong now, for all of them. Felix grabbed her left hand and squeezed. "It will be okay."
She nodded, brushing half-formed tears with the back of her hand. "Let's talk about something else while we wait for Sleeping Beauty to wake up."
He grinned. "He looks better than he usually does, eh?"
Emma gave a small chuckle. "Minor improvement."
They blew off some steam and talked about old times. Like the time Wolf had lost his two front baby teeth and had a whistle when he spoke for months afterward. He was their fearless leader and they followed his orders without defiance, their little band of child soldiers was unbreakable. But their admiration hadn't stopped Emma and Felix from bursting into hysterics at each opportunity, much to Wolf's annoyance.
And the time Felix had climbed a tree further than Wolf and Emma had been able to and promptly gloated at the top. However, his celebration had been premature; a slip of the foot and his arm was broken on impact with the hard ground beneath. The topic was too close to Wolf's currently shattered bones so they moved on to another old story.
To the time Emma had gotten deathly sick after a frosty night they had all spent underneath a bridge. Wolf and Felix had taken turns offering her sips of water, crumbs of food, and piling any rags they could find on her for warmth.
A fierce loyalty burned in Emma's chest as she listened to Felix recount it. She remembered getting sick. The relentless fever. But not much else. "I don't remember you and Wolf taking care of me."
"We were afraid you were going to die." Felix said, avoiding her gaze. "You convulsed a few times, from the fever." He paused and finally looked at her. "You were tougher than we thought."
They stayed there at that table, making coffee, checking on Wolf, and trading stories. By the time the sun was setting, they had rehashed most of their shared history, pulling out treasured memories like family picture albums. They had seen so much while wandering throughout Europe. Florence, Prague, Berlin.
Emma's stomach twisted and the smile on her lips died. "Let's not talk about Berlin."
Felix bit into a sandwich made up of stale bread and spicy salami. He chewed, picking his next words carefully. "Do you still dream about it?"
"Dreams? More like nightmares." She couldn't hold back a shiver.
He nodded. "It still happened. It made us stronger in the end."
"I'm envious at your ability to see it that way." Emma held her cup of coffee, warming her hands. Quietly, almost to herself, she added, "I want to pretend it never happened."
A grunt from the living room interrupted them. "What the fuck?"
Felix threw his arms in the air. "He lives!"
Wolf snorted as the two of them ran over to him. Pair of overgrown little shits, he thought sentimentally. Of course he couldn't die. What would they do without him? "Don't touch me."
Emma held up a water bottle. "You might as well drink now. We have a lot to discuss."
"No, grab the vodka."
"Wolf-"
"Look at my fucking face. I need to be piss drunk."
Felix and Emma shared a morose look. He was back to normal. Felix stood up to grab a half empty bottle from the kitchen cupboard as Wolf began to spin the tale of last night's encounter with Echis.
When he finished, Emma clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. "I knew it."
"But why?" Felix interjected.
Wolf debated telling them the truth. To tell them would be to open up a can of rotting worms. But what the hell. Here they were. Might as well dig through this messy shit together. "Emma, go to my room. In the closet, there's a hole in the floor covered with an empty safe. Look for a black box."
Emma followed his directions without delay. With a swipe of her hand, the heavy safe slid across the room without needing to even touch it. She kneeled down, anxious to put together this mystery. Sure enough, her fingertips grazed against an object and she pulled out a black box. It was rectangular, no longer than a pencil and light as a feather. She returned to the living room and handed it to Wolf. "What is it?"
Using his thumb on his good hand, Wolf flipped open the lid and pivoted the inside towards them. Syringes, two of them, full of dark green liquid that sparkled like jewels. "They're called Boosters. Stole them from Echis after a raid. He found out and the rest is history."
Felix and Emma both started yelling at the same time.
"Fucking idiot!" he said.
"What the fuck were you thinking?" she said.
Wolf set the syringes down on his chest and raised his hand, calling for silence. "Can I fucking continue?" he asked calmly.
Fuming, Emma replied, "Enlighten us."
He took a deep breath in and blew out slowly out through his nostrils. "The last raid we did, the HYDRA storage unit. That's where I got the Boosters from. The history behind it is fucking insane, it involves Captain America or something. But long story short, Echis had reliable information the Boosters would be in the unit. He didn't just want the microchip we retrieved that day. He wanted the Boosters too."
"Why didn't we know about this?" Felix pried. "Why just you?"
"He didn't want to put the word out that these things even exist. The less people that knew about it, the better." Wolf looked between the two of them. "But I didn't want that motherfucker to get his hands on this. So I took it and pretended it was never in the unit to begin with. His source had it wrong. Case closed."
"But he didn't believe you." Emma surmised.
Wolf shook his head. "No, he didn't. He wanted to make sure I wasn't lying." He winced as he leaned back in an attempt to make himself comfortable. "Not sure how I got out alive this time."
Felix snorted. "When bullshitting saves your life."
"Wait," Emma sat down on the couch carefully, avoiding his feet. "Are these the injections Echis had? When he was an experiment?"
"No," Wolf replied. "These are primitive, about 50 years old. They give you a mean fucking edge but it only lasts a minute. It wears off. What Echis had are an improved version. Permanent." He saw Emma's next question before she opened her mouth. "He wanted these so no one else could have them. The effect is temporary but more powerful than any injections Echis ever had."
"It could kill him," she whispered.
Wolf said nothing but he didn't need to. The possibility was in the air now, waiting to be born.
Felix frowned, incredulous but trepid. "You want to go on a suicide mission to kill Echis? Do you want to look in a mirror?"
His older brother gravely asked, "Do you want to be on a leash for the rest of your life?"
"We could do it," Emma said. "We could kill him." She saw her future, once bleak and gray, suddenly bloom to life. "Wolf is right. We can't live like this, constantly under his thumb."
Wolf smirked. "Did you just say I'm right?"
"You're very close to getting another black eye." Emma retorted.
He shrugged but let it go. "Look, let's take a few days to sleep on it. Echis said he'd call when he needed us." Wolf swung his left arm over his eyes, effectively ending the conversation.
"Emma, you can go to bed. I'll stay with him."
She studied Felix's peaky complexion, unsure if he was tired or suddenly rattled by their pending plan. Or both. "Do you feel alright?"
He only nodded, throwing a couple of cushions on the floor from the neighboring loveseat.
"Call me if you need anything," she said as she climbed the stairs, equal parts guilty and relieved that she could be on her own for a few hours.
Closing the door behind her, Emma gave a huge sigh and let herself slide all the way down to the floor. What a day. She glanced around, seeing her room hadn't magically tidied itself. Maybe it would comply tomorrow?
She dragged herself to her unmade bed, curling up underneath a sheet so thin she could trace the outline of her bunched fingers huddled together near her face. It was cold tonight, but she carried the warmth of a better life close to her heart. She was sure they could overthrow Echis, it could happen. And then? Well, they could do whatever they wanted. They could leave London; settle down somewhere warmer for starters.
Maybe she could run away with Steve. Part of her laughed and part of her sighed. Head over heels about Steve? She had just met him. God, she was so pathetic. And yet, there he was, lingering in the alleyways and back corners of her thoughts like she had known him for years. There was no denying it, she was taken with his pretty face. But there was also an instantly likable character about him, a goodness that surrounded his tough exterior. He seemed worn down by time although he couldn't have been past his early thirties. An old soul. There was something about him, something she would like to figure out.
Perhaps that would have been possible if she had been a normal person to begin with. As it stood, nothing about her life was simple enough to justify asking him if he would like to grab a coffee with her sometime. Her mood turned sour, she threw the sheet over her head and quieted her mind. This was no time for romance.
As she listened to the silence around her, Emma felt the tension slowly leave her body. Time lost all meaning. Her brain meandered through random bits and pieces of information as she sunk into another state of consciousness. She was floating on a cloud, she was walking next to Steve, she was-
She was sitting in a chair. She was in a bland white room. A lady in dark blue scrubs was placing sticky squares attached to wires onto her bare skin.
"Electrodes," A small Emma informed her. Her child's voice reverberated throughout the hall outside. "These are called electrodes. I read it in a book."
The woman ignored her, continuing to work briskly. "Sit all the way back."
Emma did as she was told, scooting back until her calves were digging uncomfortably into the edge of the seat. She grit her teeth. It was then that she saw the tiny colorful caplets in the front pockets of the woman's scrubs.
"Can I have a candy?"
The lady looked at her directly for the first time since she entered the room. A child, she had just been a child. "Maybe if you're a good girl," she said. Her voice left her, suddenly choked up.
But little Emma didn't notice. She grinned, unaware of any malice. She could be a good girl.
The world became a smear of colors and the scene changed. Her arm hurt. She picked at the clear wrapping near her elbow. XA003, the blocky text stated. She was XA003.
She frowned, that wasn't true. She was Emma. She sat quietly in her cell, trying to manage her new duality, when the door opened.
A stranger entered, closely followed by Dr. List. "Emma, stand." He commanded. She did, eying the newcomer as Dr. List continued speaking to him. "She's developing much more quickly than we've expected. Her genetics are extraordinary. However, I recommend behavioral reinforcement as soon as possible. She is prone to.." he paused, as if he had a bad taste in his mouth. "Tantrums."
The man laughed and crouched down to Emma's height. "This little lady? That can't be true." He smiled, his blue eyes twinkling. "She's a doll."
Emma said nothing, wary but disarmed by his kindness. No one had ever said anything nice to her before.
He held out his hand. "Alexander Pierce, pleased to meet you."
It all went blurry once more and she was being escorted by two burly guards. They flanked her on both sides, directing her where to turn by nudging her with their pistols. She wasn't sure if they were as gargantuan as they appeared or if her three foot tall perspective was the main culprit of her bias.
They entered a room where two men waited, one on his knees and the other towering over him. She recognized Mr. Pierce immediately.
"Ah, there she is," he smiled and Emma couldn't help but return it. "My best girl." He gestured to come closer. "It's alright, he won't bite." In reference to the other person in the room, Emma saw he was chained to the floor. The steel links were heavy and wrapped around his wrists and ankles. He was bleeding profusely from his mouth. His head was partially lowered but she could make out gray hair sprouting from his temples. He looked much older than he probably was. "Now," Pierce kneeled down to her eye level. "I need to know a few things. And only he-" He pointed at the man. "Can tell me what I need." He smiled but it didn't reach his eyes. "But wouldn't you know it, he hurt his mouth and can't tell me. Can you be a big girl and help me?"
Emma nodded, holding out her hand. Pierce held out his pointer and middle finger, letting her grip as she shuffled towards the prisoner. Slowly, she placed her left hand on the his stubbly dark hair.
Quick flashes. A house on fire, screaming from the inside; torched corpses hanging from nooses tied to a nearby tree.
Emma jumped. The man had let out a heartbreaking howl of pain and started sobbing.
"Dig deeper," Pierce instructed.
She didn't want to. But she did. She was his best girl.
Clearer images poured in this time, stable enough to follow. The same man on the ground was opening a door. It was dark inside but the outlines of people huddled around a fire were barely visible. A figure stood, tall and lanky. Emma focused, this felt like an important memory. The person was male, a teenager. He held such a presence that there could be no mistake in assuming he was the leader of this group. His face was marked with the strong lines of the man he would become and the shadow of the child he once was. Brown eyes, brown hair. A name. A name on the tip of her tongue.
"Dox." Emma said, taking her hand off of the man in chains.
Pierce laughed, reaching inside his jacket. "What a doll." He pulled out a gun and shot the man in the head.
Emma sat up, gasping for breath and clutching her chest. Fuck. Could she get one night? One damn night. She steadied herself, climbing out of bed to pace around the room for a bit. She sniffled, surprised to find her face wet with tears. She wiped them away and sat at the window seat. Still shaking, Emma pulled her knees close and leaned her head back against the wall. She stared out the window up at the dark sky, searching for stars but found none.
As Emma was calming herself, Bucky was settled down in bed. He originally wanted to sleep on the floor but Chance had been eager to curl up with him. Now fast asleep on his lap, Bucky figured he could stay put for tonight. After a bath, Chance was still shaggy but perfectly spotless. An intense series of baths had revealed a soft and curly golden brown coat. With some grooming, he could resemble a dog instead of a walking hair piece.
From this vantage point, he could make out a sliver of sky. He wished there were less light pollution. It would have made stargazing possible. His journal was open on a half finished drawing of a bear, overlaid with the constellation pattern of Ursa Major. Old Bucky had liked to learn about astronomy, biology, and the physical sciences. He supposed he did too.
He idly tapped his pencil against the journal. He wondered if he should go to the church tomorrow. Would Emma would be there? He quickly let that reservoir of hope dry out. He didn't deserve friendship. She had done him a favor just by speaking to him. There wasn't a reason to think lightning would strike twice. Bucky mulled it over and put the journal away, shuffling Chance around so he was tucked under the covers. He would go to the church tomorrow, but it wasn't to see Emma. No. It was only because he had nothing else to do. Right.
As he was falling asleep, he realized it was the first time he had made four choices in one day.
The days turned into weeks. Still, no word came from Echis. Wolf's arm was set in a cast and covered in inappropriate doodles courtesy of Emma and Felix. They passed the time mostly with playing cards. The Boosters were not discussed again. A passing glance and one would assume that all was well. But Emma knew better. The fear and tension was boiling beneath the surface but it was there.
And then it happened.
All three had been in the living room. Wolf and Felix were sitting cross legged on the floor, engaged in a contrived version of Blackjack. Emma was laying across the couch, a well loved copy of Jane Eyre in her hands. An insistent banging at the door brought it all to a screeching halt.
"No," Wolf snapped as Felix stood to get it. "Let me."
"Sit down," Emma put a hand on his shoulder. "You should be in a bed."
His ringing phone in his pocket interrupted his smart remark. He answered the second Felix opened the door. "Yeah?"
The voice on the other end was brisk. "Your first victim. I need him tonight. Alive. Bring him to the Holy House. Don't keep me waiting."
Click.
Wolf scowled. Fucking piece of shit.
"Who was it?" Emma asked Felix. He had closed the door, and began shuffling through papers he had received.
"One of Echis' happy helpers." He pulled out a sheet and held it out to her. "Look at this."
She studied the person in the photograph. He was young, on the cusp of his twenties. Dark curls sprang down his forehead. He had an air of confidence about him, the kind only people who believe they're indestructible have. He wouldn't come in easy.
Wolf motioned for Emma to pass the picture. She obliged, not completely in the moment. Her mind was racing a mile a minute. "Echis said tonight?"
He nodded, only half listening. "Felix, what else did he send?"
Emma bolted past him. "I'll be back."
"Hey," Wolf shouted. "Where are you going?"
But it was too late. She had already slammed the door and was halfway down the street. Nervous adrenaline coursed through her. It was happening. The one thing she had dreaded. They were rounding up Enhanced, people like them, and laying them at Echis' feet. There was a special place in hell for her. She was sure of it. Ironically, she had never been sure if she believed in God, or any god for that matter. Could she still ask for forgiveness? Emma supposed that she answered her own question the second she saw the church entrance on the horizon. She spotted a familiar muzzle lounging outside. He's here, she thought with a spasm of anxiety and gave a short whistle.
Chance happily bounded towards her. His transformation from stray to teddy bear was now complete. She ran her hands through his soft curls. "What a good boy, Chance." Emma began to walk in. "Stay."
He was sitting near the altar today. His back and shoulders were hunched forward, like he was reading something in his lap. As she neared, she saw he was wearing a black long sleeve shirt and gloves, despite the fact that it was rather warm today. The book she imagined he was reading was actually a journal. A detailed sketch of two bears took up the pages.
"You're very good," she said, causing him to jump. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."
Bucky unclenched the deadly fist he had instinctively made with his left hand. He was surprised, he hadn't heard her at all. He mentally berated himself. That could be dangerous. If someone who meant harm caught him off guard like that.. it would end badly. "It's fine." Shock faded and was replaced by something unexpected: relief. Emma was here. He didn't have to listen to the ghosts in his head. For a moment, at least. He scooted over a few inches. "Do you want to sit?"
"Sure," she glanced over at his journal again. "Do you mind if I look?" His mouth twisted into a hard line. "You can say no," she half joked in an attempt to put him at ease.
"I have other drawings in here that aren't finished. They're not good."
Emma sensed a partial truth but ran with it. "Are the other drawings nudes?"
His face grew warm. "No," he said a little too defensively.
She chuckled. "How about if I look from here while you hold it?"
Bucky said nothing but tilted the journal more towards her. She leaned in a bit, taking in his sketches of Ursa Major and Ursa Minor. The ends of her hair brushed against his left arm. She noticed and pulled her hair back and to her left, leaving her neck exposed on her right. She was young, he observed. Young enough to make mistakes and hang around the wrong people, like him. He could stop it. This thing that was happening between them. He should stop it. But, hadn't he been the one coming to the church everyday for a month now?
"These are constellations?" Emma was trained on the drawing of the smaller bear, Ursa Minor. Her fingertips traced the lines connecting the rudimentary shape in the sky to the more detailed build come to life on paper.
"Yeah."
"I was looking for stars the other night," she said, half remembering her nightmare with Pierce as the headliner. "But I'm not smart enough to know the constellations." She delivered that last part with a hint of self deprecation and a smile.
He shifted a bit in his seat. "When you find the North Star, everything else falls into place."
"Probably impossible to find in the middle of London."
"I can usually find it in the park by The National Gallery."
Emma ran over her mental map. "There are a few around there. Which one?"
He paused. "The one closer by the canal."
"St. James?"
Bucky gave a half smile. "Is that what it's called?"
He was finally relaxing, she thought. "This is England, you can't go very far without running into a James."
"I guess not."
"Have you been to The National Gallery?"
He nodded. "A few times."
"I suppose you would since you're an artist," she pointed to his journal.
"You've never gone?"
Emma shrugged and picked at her nails. "I don't get out much."
Before he could register the words that had formed in his head, they were out of his mouth. "We could go, it's not far from here." When he saw her expression of uncertainty, Bucky quickly backtracked. "We don't have to."
"I would," Emma started. "I have somewhere I need to be today." She drummed her fingers on the pew, dreading what was waiting for her.
Bucky managed to disrupt the words spilling out this time. He kept his mouth tightly shut. He wouldn't ask-
"Maybe next time?" Emma interrupted.
It was his turn to be unsure. There shouldn't be a next time. He was a time bomb, he was a disaster waiting to happen, he destroyed everything he touched. And yet, he didn't want to be alone anymore. He wanted a friend. Unable to vocalize any of this, he simply nodded.
"Where do you live?" She saw tension flood his entire being. "That sounded worse than what I meant," she laughed. "I only asked so I knew where to find you next time."
"I'll be here," Bucky responded.
Seeing that she wasn't getting further than that, Emma stood. "Okay, I'll see you later, Steve."
I'm Bucky, he wanted to say. But thankfully he was able to keep it to himself. He walked out of the church a few moments after Emma had left. Chance happily joined his side and the two walked back to the apartment together. Later that night, Bucky flipped to the pages of his journal where he kept pieces of information he did not want to forget. At the bottom of the list, he wrote:
I met a girl. Her name is Emma.
A/N: I'm taking a break from writing for a couple of weeks; final projects are due soon! I'll be writing again by Thanksgiving.