Crossing Off the List

by SJSmith56

Set during and after the Flag Smashers, Bucky Barnes needs the help of a retired librarian to acquire his GED. This is a story of friendship between Joyce, hanging on to life while fighting cancer and Bucky, an old soul in a younger man's body wanting to understand and experience what he has missed since his life changed, after he fell into that mountain chasm in 1945.

7. Chapter 7 May the Fourth

Chapter 7. May the Fourth

It had been several days since Joyce assured Bucky that she was able to look after herself again. She had been a little distressed that this time she lost some hair, but it didn't seem noticeable to Bucky before he left her alone at her home. When he saw her after those few days, sitting in the coffee shop at her usual table, he placed his coffee order, and sat with her, eyeing the hat she was wearing.

"What?" she asked him. "You don't like it?"

"I like it fine," he replied. "Did you lose more hair?"

"Why don't you broadcast it? I don't think the customers at the tables beside the door heard you."

She had a big smile on her face and her eyes were twinkling when she said it, so he took it to mean she was feeling much better.

"I think they have a sound system here I can use," he said, looking around, then pretending to be hurt when she playfully slapped his arm. "You look much better. I did worry about you but figured you would call if you needed me."

"I do feel better," she said. "I go for blood work in a couple of weeks to see how my body reacted to this round of treatment. If it's good, I don't have to have another round until July. What were you up to?"

He smiled. "I took the English language arts exam," he stated. "They had a cancellation at the test writing center so I wrote it yesterday. Managed okay on the computer as well, thanks to you."

"That's wonderful," replied Joyce. "Anything new on the Flag Smashers?"

He shook his head. "I am expecting to pick up something in Louisiana soon that's needed to go against them. It could even be this weekend but I don't know yet. It's a surprise for Sam. I might be there a couple of days. You'll manage without me when I go?"

"I'm sure I can." She sipped her coffee. "Have you seen Yori yet? He was in here earlier and asked if I had seen you. You missed lunch with him last week because you were taking care of me. He thinks you're a sweetheart for doing that, by the way."

"No, I guess we should go for lunch." He blushed a little then looked distressed. "Leah is still angry at me that I walked out on our date a few weeks ago so we can't really go for sushi. Can't say I blame her."

"Any more potential dates on your dating apps?"

He looked up at her from where he was bent over his phone, checking one of the dating apps Sam set up for him.

"You did that deliberately."

Leaning back in her chair Joyce laughed. "Honestly, I didn't know you were looking at the app." She sipped her coffee again, trying to keep a straight face. "Listen, come over for dinner and we'll watch a movie. I have a really good one for you. Very sweet, set in the Lower East Side, about a woman who's been unlucky in love caught between dating a debonair author and a pickle vendor. It's called Crossing Delancey."

"I'm definitely not a debonair author," stated Bucky, placing his phone down on the table as his Brooklyn accent suddenly became more prominent. "Are you comparing me to a pickle vendor?"

"Well, he's a well-read pickle vendor and quite attractive in his own way," she said, grinning. "Reminds me of Bob."

"You are trouble," smirked Bucky. "Sure, as long as you let me help make dinner."

The time was set, and Bucky showed up with a bottle of red wine. Joyce got him to work chopping scallions and garlic for her version of Alfredo sauce. Then she walked him through the process of making it while she prepared the fresh pasta picked up earlier that day. She had already made a simple salad and stole some garlic from Bucky's preparations to mix with butter and Parmesan cheese to slather on some sliced French bread that she put in the oven. Peeking over Bucky's shoulder Joyce nodded her approval at the consistency of his Alfredo sauce. As soon as he drained the pasta, not wanting her to lift the heavy pot of water herself, they combined the two on a platter and ground some pepper on it as well as some fresh grated Parmesan cheese. Bucky took the French bread out of the oven, using his left hand to prove he didn't need an oven mitt when she didn't believe him. Just after they sat down to eat, Joyce's cell phone rang, and she looked at the name on the call display.

"I have to take this," she said curtly. "Excuse me. Go ahead and start."

Although he tried not to eavesdrop, he could tell by Joyce's tone that she was trying to be understanding to the woman who was on the other end. It took a while before Joyce said the woman's name, identifying her as Hope, her younger daughter. After about ten minutes talking with her Joyce finally returned, sitting across from Bucky.

"Everything okay?" he asked.

"No, but I can't help her if she won't take my advice," said Joyce, as she stabbed her fork into her pasta and brought it up to her mouth. "That was Hope, my younger daughter. She's 34, never been married but has lived with several guys over the years. The latest guy, Jack, and her have been together about eleven months, give or take a few days. He travels out of town a lot for work and recently, she's been of the opinion that he's ready to ask her to get married."

"You don't like him," declared Bucky.

"Not particularly," replied Joyce. "She just seems to grasp at any straw to make their relationship seem better than it is. I mean, he's on the road three weeks out of every month. When he's home, he's in the office 10 to 12 hours a day. He's practically non-existent in the relationship yet she thinks he's the one and I know she's going to get her heart broken again."

"I noticed a picture of you and your husband at a graduation. Was that Hope in the picture?"

Joyce stood up and brought the picture over, looking at it then handing it to Bucky. "That was the day she got her Master's degree in Fine Arts, specializing in Digital Design. She can work just about anywhere in the world, doing graphic design, or computer-generated special effects for movies, but instead she works as a receptionist for a law office in Chicago because Jack didn't like her working in a field dominated by men." She ate more of her pasta then sighed. "Sorry, I shouldn't be discussing her behind her back. I love her so much, but she just seems lost when it comes to relationships, like she's willing to settle. She needs someone who loves everything about her, is proud of her work and her abilities. Someone who'll make her feel good about herself instead of convincing her to take something less because of their insecurities."

For a few moments he looked at the picture wondering if she was expecting him to answer that, but Joyce didn't seem to expect one. He guessed there were some things that just had to be put out there rhetorically. The meal was good, and with Joyce's blessing, Bucky ate the extra. As Bucky carried the dishes into the kitchen Joyce opened the fridge and pulled out an apple pie. With a grin Bucky opened the freezer and took out the ice cream. While she sliced into the pie and placed a portion on the plate he scooped the ice cream, depositing it on top. Then she reached into the fridge and showed Bucky a squeeze bottle of caramel sauce.

"You have got to be kidding me," he said, with a little groan. "Yes, please."

With a bit of flair, she drizzled the sauce over the ice cream. Together they headed out to the living room, and she cued up the movie. Before she started it, she looked at Bucky.

"I didn't properly thank you for being there for me last week," she said. "I did the first round on my own and it was hard, really hard. Having you here made me feel like someone cared. Thank you."

"You're welcome," he smiled. "It was good being here for you. Kept me out of my head."

The movie began and he found himself drawn into the story. Even though it was set in the 1980s the characters reminded him of people he grew up with. Amy Irving was very cute although he couldn't understand why her character, Izzy, didn't see through Anton's obvious bullshit. The pickle vendor, Sam, reminded him of guys he knew in Brooklyn; good guys who were smart and fun to hang out with. Back in the 1940s they were often the guys that girls ended up marrying, knowing they were good providers, honest, and faithful to a fault. It was exactly as Joyce described, a sweet movie about two people falling in love.

"That was good," he said. "It would be a good date movie."

"I'm glad you liked it," replied Joyce. "Now, you know that tomorrow is May 4th."

"Yeah," he answered. "So?"

"May the fourth be with you?"

"Does that mean something?" He looked at Joyce, confused.

"You really don't know. May the fourth be with you ... may the force be with you?" Bucky shook his head. "May the force be with you is a line from Star Wars and on May 4th fans of Star Wars celebrate by watching all the movies in sequence. Now, I'm not a big fan of Episodes 1 through 3, but we should watch 4 through 6 together. It's too late to get movie tickets as they've been sold out for weeks."

"What's wrong with Episodes 1 through 3?" asked Bucky.

"Well, for starters, it didn't start with those three episodes," she explained. "It started with Episode 4, A New Hope which introduced Luke Skywalker. Then many years later George Lucas did the earlier episodes, a prequel showing the story of Luke's father, Anakin. It wasn't well received, the CGI was so-so, and it had a very annoying character. Purists will watch it and you can watch it on your own but for me Star Wars starts at Episode 4. The final three are okay, then there are the stand-alone movies, Rogue One, which takes place just before Episode 4, then Solo which is about Han Solo's background. I didn't mind that so much although there were criticisms of it. There are also the series, Mandalorian, Boba Fett, and Andor, and there's a new one about one of the Jedi from the prequel, Ahsoka. Not to mention the animated series." She stopped and grinned at Bucky. "We'll just watch Rogue One, then Episodes 4-6 as they're the ones that really defined Star Wars."

"Sure," he replied then laughed. "They must really be something."

"They are," said Joyce.

For the next hour they went on the GED website and looked over the Social Studies section, getting a feel for it. Bucky promised to take the practice test soon to identify where his weaknesses were. With a hug for Joyce, he said good night, affirmed he would be back on Saturday to watch the Star Wars movies with her, and stepped out into the dark. On his arrival back at his apartment he turned on the TV and watched the late news, then decided to go to bed. After undressing and brushing his teeth he laid on the blanket bed set up on the floor. For a time, he laid there thinking about the movie Crossing Delancey, that he watched with Joyce. What wouldn't he give to meet someone like Izzy, someone sweet with desires and dreams, someone whose picture he could just look at, and know instantly that he wanted to meet her. He could only hope.

There was the sound of someone breathing in the darkness. It was loud, almost artificial sounding, and he opened his eyes. He was in an apartment that reminded him of Joyce's, but it was smaller and full of books. His gaze scanned over the layout of the apartment, and he realized he was conducting a risk assessment. Everything in that place was being seen in a weapon's context; how it could be used against his target ... shit, he was the Soldier, there to kill someone.

"No, I don't do this anymore."

The words in his head were stuck there, ignored as his body continued picking up and evaluating items as weapons, a knife, a corkscrew, a rolling pin ... each item hefted in his metal hand and tested for suitability in his task. The sound of the shower running drew his attention and he went to the bathroom door, listening intently to the different intensities of sound indicating the person inside was washing their face, then their hair and their body. Each intake and outtake of breath from his target was evaluated by the Soldier, gauging when the opportune time was to make his move.

Silently, he opened the door and stepped into the warm, moist environment. The mirror over the sink was covered in a steamy mist and he placed his hand on it, swiping a path that revealed where the sound of breathing came from. It was him who was the source of the loud breathing. His own breath sounds were amplified by the mask that muzzled him, although his handler always said it was to hide his identity, keeping him safe. Liars, he knew they were liars, except he had no choice but to obey. To disobey meant agony, to disobey meant pain and he didn't know if he could withstand it the next time ... there was always a next time.

The sound and movement of the shower curtain being pulled back forced the Soldier into acting and he placed his metal hand around the throat of the young woman who came out of the shower. It was Amy Irving, her beautiful curly hair slicked wet against her scalp, her blue eyes full of fear at the sight of the Soldier. Her mouth opened, trying to get out a scream, but he kept squeezing until all life was gone from her eyes. Then he let her go and bent over her lifeless body, confirming his mission was complete.

With a start, Bucky woke up, breathing heavily. "Fuck," he muttered, in the flickering light of the TV screen.

Getting up off the floor he went over to his kitchenette, turned on the light over the small stove and pulled a bottle from the cupboard above the fridge. Pouring the amber liquid into a glass until it was half full, he raised it to his lips and gulped a good portion of it, as he kept his eyes deliberately unfocused. For the past ten days he'd had no nightmares and had assumed that maybe, just maybe, he had turned a corner on them. He wondered for a moment why he had dreamed of killing Amy Irving, then it hit him. The movie had made him hope that somewhere there was someone for him, someone who would see past what he once was. Draining the rest of the whiskey he grimaced as it burned down his throat. Even though he couldn't get drunk, he could still feel the burn. It reminded him that he deserved punishment, deserved the pain for what he did. Perhaps he could atone to his victim's families, make amends for what he did, but for him there would be no closure. To be alone was his penance, for all of eternity. The sooner he accepted that the sooner he could stop fooling himself into thinking he was worth loving. The nightmares were proof that the Soldier was still there, just like Zemo said. Underneath the outer façade of Bucky Barnes was a killer, plain and simple.

He looked at the time; 3:30 am glared at him from the display on the stove. Perhaps a run would sweat the nightmare out. Changing into sweatpants, a short-sleeved T-shirt, then a hoodie, he slipped his boots on, as he refused to spend good money on sneakers. Running was running and he didn't need a special pair of shoes to run. Placing his wallet and cellphone inside his hoodie pocket he locked the door of his tiny flat and headed down the stairs. It wouldn't take him long to run to the Brooklyn Bridge then along the waterfront to Red Hook and back. He began running, ignoring everything but the feel of his breath adjusting to the rhythm of his legs moving, and the pounding of his feet on the hard pavement.

Joyce was awakened by her cell phone ringing. Turning on the lamp beside her bed she looked at the time then the call display; 4:13 am, and an NYPD number. Answering, she didn't expect to hear Bucky's voice.

"Joyce? I'm sorry, but I've been arrested," he said. "I don't know what's going on. Something about me being the Winter Soldier again and that I've missed my last few therapy appointments."

She could feel the anxiety pouring off of him, even through the cell phone speaker.

"Are you going to be alright?" Joyce asked. "What precinct are you at? Bucky, have they set bail or anything?"

"I'm at the 84th Precinct," he replied. "They say there was a complaint about me beating people up but the only altercations I've been involved in have been because of the Flag Smashers and they were super soldiers like me. Well, unless ... no, it couldn't be that." He went quiet a moment. "Just see if you can get me a lawyer and he can figure it out."

"Bucky do you want me to phone your friend Sam?" asked Joyce.

He was quiet for a moment. "No, don't call him. I haven't talked to him since we got the shield back in Europe. He wouldn't appreciate being called now just because I'm in trouble. Could you call my therapist because they said I missed my court ordered therapy but that was finished weeks ago." He gave her the information for Dr. Raynor. "Listen, my ten minutes are almost up. I'm sorry but you're the only person I could think of."

"I'm glad you did call me," she replied. "Practice some deep breathing, okay? Stay calm."

She thought for a moment then knew who she could call. Looking up his office number on her phone she hesitated, knowing it would take him a while to get to Brooklyn, but he was passionate about fighting for the underdog and right now Bucky needed someone who was passionate. She pressed "Call" on the number for Nelson & Murdock, waiting for the call to be picked up. When she heard Matt's voice, she breathed easier, knowing in her heart that he wouldn't turn his back on Bucky.

As soon as she identified herself as his former high school librarian and a friend of Bucky Barnes, she could tell he was interested. After explaining what she knew he promised to get there as soon as he could. Taking the therapist's phone number from her, he said he would call Dr. Raynor to confirm whether Bucky's therapy sessions were truly finished or if that was a miscommunication.

"Mrs. Franklin." His voice betrayed some concern about her. "Are you alright? You seem very concerned about Sergeant Barnes."

"You remember when you were in high school how some of the lost souls ended up in the library because they didn't feel safe anywhere else?" She sighed. "Bucky is a lost soul who is trying so hard to find his place. He asked for my help in getting his GED because he quit school during the Depression. He's 106 years old, Matt, and trying to get his high school equivalency. Doesn't that say a lot about the type of man he is?"

"Yes, it does," answered Matt. "Are you going to the precinct?" She said she would. "Good, we'll present a united front and make sure he's treated right."

An hour later, when Joyce was finally allowed to join Matt in an interrogation room to speak to Bucky, she was appalled when he was brought in wearing shackles on his wrists and ankles. Before she could inform Matt, he stood up and demanded his client be released from his restraints, apparently able to tell by the sound from the chains.

"He's a danger to society," stated the officer who escorted Bucky in.

"He can also break them apart at will, isn't that correct Sergeant Barnes?"

"Yeah, but I didn't want them to think that I didn't respect their position," replied Bucky. "I don't want any trouble."

The officer handed Matt a folder as he unlocked Bucky's shackles then left him with the lawyer and Joyce. She reached over for Bucky's hands as he sat across from them.

"Are you alright?" she asked, searching his face for signs of anxiety. "This is Matt Murdock. He was a student at the school I worked at and became a lawyer. He's a good one, too."

"Bucky, why don't you tell me what happened," said Matt.

Bucky nodded. "I was running near the Brooklyn Bridge and a police car flashed their lights and turned on their siren. They asked me to identify myself, which I did, then one of them went to the car to check my ID."

"You gave it freely to them?" asked Matt. "You don't have to, you know."

Bucky shrugged. "I have nothing to hide. That cop came back and said I missed my therapy. I tried to tell him that it was supposed to be declared finished when I was arrested in Baltimore." Joyce stared at him as he blushed and explained what happened in Baltimore. "Then he said they had video proof that I had assaulted several people. I didn't know what he was talking about until they showed me a video after I talked to Joyce. It was from YouTube. Sam and I went to Madripoor with another person, and he convinced me to pretend I was still the Winter Soldier. It was to get access to a crime gang there who knew about the super soldier serum that the Flag Smashers are using. They went after the other person, and I defended him as if I were the Winter Soldier."

Matt opened his briefcase and took a cell phone out, using the voice search to look for the video. When it came up, Joyce and Bucky watched it while Matt listened. When it was over, he put the cell phone back and leaned towards Bucky.

"I'll have you out in no time," he said. "First of all, this video was definitely taken in another jurisdiction as evidenced by the person who took it saying they're in Madripoor. There is no extradition treaty with that place which also has no police presence in any sort of way so what you did while defending the other man is not considered a crime there. I spoke to Dr. Raynor before I left my place, and although she confirmed that your last official session was in the Baltimore police station, she expressed the hope that you would agree to see her again. For some reason the warrant that was used in that arrest wasn't declared as completed so it was still on the books. Dr. Raynor is supposed to be here shortly to verify that it is no longer a valid warrant."

They talked some more as Matt asked Bucky more questions about the Flag Smashers and what else Bucky had been up to in the weeks since he returned to New York from Europe. When Dr. Raynor was brought in she shook hands with Matt and Joyce as they introduced themselves.

"You're not Bucky's sister," she stated to the retired librarian.

"I'm his friend," replied Joyce. "He's been helping me get through my chemotherapy while I've been helping him get his GED."

"You never told me you were doing that, James," she said.

"You never asked," he replied. "You're not the easiest person to talk to, Doc. No offence but you're kind of prickly and after what went down in Baltimore ..."

Dr. Raynor sighed. "Yeah, that wasn't my finest moment and for what it's worth John Walker was way out of line disrupting our therapy schedule, especially considering what he did after. He's probably in need of therapy as much as you are but that's not a professional assessment."

"So, officially, Sergeant Barnes has completed his therapy?" Matt gazed at her as if he could see right into her soul.

"Officially, yes, but unofficially I think you would benefit from continuing," answered Raynor, looking directly at Bucky.

"Are you the reason Bucky has to make amends?" asked Joyce. "Who is making amends to him for what he endured?"

Joyce tried to keep her anger out of her voice but obviously didn't succeed too well as Dr. Raynor looked irritated. Then she took a breath and seemed to count to three before answering.

"That was a requirement from the Department of Justice. I volunteered to be his therapist as I felt with my background as a soldier and dealing with PTSD on the battlefield that I could help him. James is right that we aren't a good fit. He's still very much a man of the 1940s who doesn't like to share his feelings."

"He's had no issue sharing with me," announced Joyce defiantly, sitting back with her arms folded. Bucky smiled a little at her obvious antagonistic attitude towards Dr. Raynor. "Maybe I'm more sympathetic."

The psychologist smiled grimly. "Then you've succeeded better than me." She shifted in her seat. "Look, I do care and I'm not happy that for whatever reason this arrest happened. The amends requirement was technically not completed, and I can't legally sign off on that. I'm sorry but as far as the government is concerned James is still required to make amends with the survivors of his targets. I'll sign off on the therapy, but I implore you to keep talking. If not to me, then to someone, even a friend." She smiled at Joyce, attempting to make peace with the older woman. "I don't want to be a source of anxiety for you, James. I really don't. If you're willing to still see me, I promise to be a better listener and more sympathetic."

"I'll think about it," said Bucky. "Stop calling me James for starters."

Raynor opened her mouth as if to give him a sharp retort then closed it and nodded instead. They were advised that Bucky's arraignment was imminent and he would be transported to the nearby courthouse. Dr. Raynor offered to drive the other two there. When they brought the shackles for transport, she also objected to them, saying there was no need for them as Bucky was strong enough to break them without any effort. They still cuffed him but at least he could walk out of the room without hobbling. As Matt predicted the arrest was overturned after Dr. Raynor confirmed that the therapy had been declared completed. When Matt pointed out the video came from an undercover assignment taking place in Madripoor the judge didn't even wait for the rest of the explanation and declared that Bucky was free to go. After returning to the precinct to get his wallet and cell phone he stood outside on the sidewalk in the now dawn light of the morning.

"Matt, thank you," said Bucky. "I appreciate what you did for me."

"My pleasure," replied the lawyer. "Tell me something ... your previous lawyer, did he make a claim for back pay while you were a PoW?" Bucky nodded his head. "How about a lawsuit against any of the relevant government departments for the people in their employ who conspired to keep your captivity a secret? I'm talking about those who were actually HYDRA who knew you were tortured into becoming the Winter Soldier."

"Yeah, but I haven't heard anything since and honestly I haven't called," replied Bucky.

"Well, I like to think that I'm thorough," stated Matt. "Let me follow up on your behalf and I'll do some of my own research, find a precedent for PoWs who claimed compensation for the time they were captives. I have a feeling that you're unique but that doesn't mean that you don't have the right to request that amends be made to you for what you suffered. My understanding is that you were pardoned because the actual HYDRA files leaked to the world proved that you were subjected to excessive physical, mental, and emotional abuse to make you compliant. That bit about making amends is likely the Department of Justice trying to save face with the hawks in the Defence Department who would have been happy seeing you executed or imprisoned."

"I don't care about any money." Joyce took Bucky's arm as he said that to Matt. "It will never make up for it. They already give me a stipend that pays the rent and for food."

"I know, but it's the principle of the thing," replied Matt, seemingly looking intently at Joyce as he spoke. "Mrs. Franklin is right that someone needs to apologize for what was done to you. They may have been HYDRA in disguise but officially they represented the military, or the State Department, the CIA ... whoever. At the least it will allow you to adapt better to life in the 21st century, to make living in Brooklyn a little easier. Bucky, you deserve that much."

With a nod of his head, Bucky agreed to Matt exploring that further and the lawyer took his leave from them, unfurling his white cane and heading towards the taxi stand. Bucky glanced at Joyce, feeling a bit emotional about her coming to his rescue.

"Are you hungry? I know a great diner that you can stuff your face at. Then we can go back to my place and watch the Star Wars movies."

He chuckled. "I wouldn't mind going home first, having a shower and changing," he replied. "The jail cell didn't smell very good. Why don't you order some food in, and I'll come over shortly."

"Okay," she smiled. "Don't you stand me up, Bucky."

He flagged a taxi for her, sending her back to her place while he took the train, explaining he needed to stop off somewhere first. Instead, he used the time on the train to think about all that happened after he went for his run. That Joyce found him a lawyer and showed up at the police station to be there for him was overwhelming. Then for Matt to announce that Bucky deserved compensation ... it was almost too much to think that the lawyer, a stranger, felt Bucky was worth the extra effort. After showering and changing at home he walked the short distance to Joyce's house. The food had just arrived, and he sat down with her to eat. After finishing he cleaned up and sat on an armchair while Joyce sat on the couch, queuing up the first movie. About 40 minutes into it he noticed that Joyce was asleep, and he gently rearranged her, so she was lying down on the couch. Covering her up with a throw blanket he gazed at her for a few moments before sitting down to watch the rest of the movie. That was the day Bucky Barnes learned that he really liked Star Wars.