Chapter 7. Opening Up

With Bucky driving Hope's car, he followed her directions to Rachel's apartment building. As he pulled up, they could see a woman waiting, whose eyes widened when she saw Hope and waved at her.

"That's Rachel," said Hope, then she turned to Sam. "Do you want me to go with you?"

"I think I can manage," he smiled, unbuckling his seatbelt. "You told her it was me, right? You also told her I'm just a regular guy?"

"Yes, I told her the date was with Captain America, Sam Wilson, and after I met you this afternoon, I texted that you were a nice guy." Sam got out as she looked over at Bucky. "He's nervous."

"He doesn't get out much," joked Bucky.

The back passenger door opened, and Rachel sat inside, then Sam closed it and went around to the door behind Bucky.

"Rachel Knowles, this is my boyfriend, Bucky Barnes," said Hope.

"Hi Bucky," she said pleasantly. "It's nice to meet you."

"Likewise," he replied, waiting for the pair in the back seat to buckle in.

There was a lot of small talk on the drive to the blues club, located in the city as Sam and Rachel tried to become acquainted during the trip. They had to park a couple of blocks away, but it was a pleasant evening for the short walk to the club, and when they arrived at the entrance, the doorman recognized Sam, offering him a handshake.

"Damn, Captain America himself is at our club," he exclaimed, glancing at Bucky. "You even brought your own muscle with you."

"I'm just here for the music," commented Bucky, grateful that the man didn't call him the Winter Soldier out loud. "I'll let you professionals handle any problems."

"You're alright, man," smiled the doorman. "My name's Cruz. Any of you need anything, you just ask."

He unfastened the rope barrier from the stanchion, letting them in past the small lineup that had already formed. Inside, another burly man shook hands with both men, then ushered them to a table that had a good view of the stage. Both Bucky and Sam made sure Hope and Rachel were seated first before taking their own seats. A server appeared moments later to take their drink orders. The place was almost full of people who recognized Sam and Bucky, as their whispered reactions to the two couples indicated.

"I've never been here before," said Rachel, leaning towards Sam. "Wasn't expecting to get the celebrity treatment. Does this happen often to you?"

"No, he's too humble," teased Bucky.

"And you usually stick to home and watch infomercials on TV," countered Sam. "Hope, what do you see in this guy?"

"He has special qualities," she smiled. "Just took me a little while to open my eyes to them."

Bucky took her hand in his and kissed it, smiling gently at her. Both Sam and Rachel watched the couple, seeing something good in their interaction. The drinks arrived, although Rachel frowned a little at Bucky having an actual drink, considering he was driving. He noticed her reaction.

"My body metabolizes alcohol quickly," he explained, "so that it doesn't affect me. Haven't been drunk since 1943."

"Seriously?" She looked from Bucky to Sam for confirmation.

"Yeah, it's true," agreed Sam. "Although, there is Asgardian mead which can affect him. I remember Steve having some. That was a fun night."

"That's right," said Bucky. "I heard about that. I only got a taste after we defeated Thanos, not even enough for a buzz. But Steve always was a lightweight when it came to drinking. Holdover from his pre-serum days, I guess. Is it true he woke up wearing someone else's clothes?"

Sam sipped his beer. "I don't remember much myself," he grinned. "All I knew was that I was at an open bar of one of the richest men in the world, surrounded by beautiful women. Not that I do that now." His face took on a serious look. "Have an image to uphold."

"Are they going to start the Avengers again?" asked Rachel.

Sam shrugged. "I've been lobbying for it in Washington, but they just don't seem to want to spring for the funding. Made me realize how much of it actually came out of Tony Stark's pocket. It's become political now, especially since Thaddeus Ross became the presidential nominee."

"You're serious?" Bucky stared at his friend. "Has he talked about the funding?"

"No, but there's a lot of talk in Washington about him being a law-and-order candidate who is also known as a micromanager. He would want a lot of control over any agency, especially one that used enhanced humans."

That filled Bucky with a sense of foreboding. He wondered what Bruce Banner would think of that. All the years Bruce spent running from Ross when he was a general in charge of the army's super soldier research, then the man's attitude towards Bucky when he was arrested in Romania came to mind. What would someone like Thaddeus Ross as president do to an enhanced human like himself, or Bruce, or even Peter Parker? He could make life very difficult for all of them. He felt Hope's hand on his arm and turned to look into her concerned eyes.

"You alright?" she asked, in a low voice. "You seem bothered by what Sam said."

"I have my own history with Thaddeus Ross," he answered. "Let's just say with the power of the presidency behind him he could make my life uncomfortable." He smiled weakly at her. "We can talk later about it." He glanced at Sam and Rachel whose heads were bent close together. "They seem to have hit it off."

She smiled. "Rachel and I were close in high school. Both of us were kind of introverted artistic types. We both fell for the wrong guys."

The sound of the band warming up drew their attention and within a few minutes the music started. Bucky moved his chair close enough to Hope's so that he could put his arm around her shoulders. Occasionally, she felt a small caress from him on the top of her arm or on the back of her shoulder. The man definitely liked touching her. It was nice feeling wanted, and she found her own hand sometimes resting on his knee. At the end of the set, she made eye contact with Rachel, and they excused themselves to the ladies' room. After using the facilities, the two women washed their hands then came back out to a number of people gathered around their table. At first, Hope thought something had happened but as they got closer, they realized it was a number of fans, asking questions.

"Our dates are back," said Bucky, standing up, then followed by Sam, as the two women got to the edge of the group surrounding them. "It was nice talking to all of you."

The fans got the hint and left the two men alone as they both pulled the chairs out for the women. They noticed fresh drinks were on the table. As the music of the second set started, Hope positioned herself closer to Bucky, turning back to him for assurance. He leaned close to her ear so she could hear him.

"Are you having a good time?"

"Yes, are you?"

He softly kissed the skin of her pulse point, making her close her eyes in response as she felt it through her body.

"I'm with you and that's a good thing."

She sensed her cheeks getting warm at his words. His hand was on her shoulder again, his thumb gently circling a spot there. It was an intimate gesture that spoke volumes, and she suddenly wished she had her own place again. That imaginary timeline of their relationship was getting shorter every day.

The rest of the evening was as enjoyable in a laid-back kind of way. The music was good, as was the company and for the first time in a long time, Bucky didn't feel like an outsider. It felt almost like a date did back in the day, as the four of them shared stories about growing up in their communities, and the people that stood out in their lives. The time flew by, and the evening ended all too soon. On the walk back to the car Sam asked Rachel out for the next night, just them together. She accepted and they exchanged phone numbers with a promise to firm up their plans during the day. On the arrival at her place, Sam escorted her to the door to say goodnight, leaving Bucky and Hope an opportunity to be alone in the front seat. They took advantage of the moment with a slightly steamy kiss before ending it reluctantly.

"I had a great time tonight," he murmured. "It was fun."

"I had a good time, too," admitted Hope. "You're a good date. I can see why you were popular back then." She caressed his face. "Are we going to do anything tomorrow night?"

"If you want. I'm open to anything." He placed his hand on hers, guiding it to his lips for a soft kiss. "You could come over."

"Is that an invitation?"

He switched to playing with the ends of her hair. "Could be." He breathed noticeably. "You could even stay over."

Her eyes focused intently on him, as her own breathing was affected by his words. She swallowed then spoke in barely more than a whisper.

"Maybe."

Lifting Hope's chin up, Bucky kissed her gently, their mouths and tongues exploring the other, before pressing their foreheads together. Sam opened the door, slipping into the back seat as they split apart with the interruption.

"Do you want to drop me off at your place before taking Hope home?" he asked.

"Yeah, that sounds alright," said Bucky, glancing back at his friend. "Make sure I give you the key before I leave you there."

Sam nodded, then sat back in his seat, looking out the window with a half-smile on his face. He noticed all evening the way Bucky and Hope interacted and was trying to be as helpful as possible. It was partly why he asked Rachel out for the following evening, thinking the other two needed some alone time. Fortunately, she agreed with his observations, plus they had their own chemistry to work on, finding they enjoyed each other's company. When Bucky dropped him off and handed him the apartment key through the driver's side window, Sam bent down and waved at Hope.

"I had a good time tonight, with both of you and Rachel," he said. "Thanks for setting me up."

"I'm sure you'll have a good time tomorrow night," she smiled. "We'll see you during the day, right?"

"You will." He nodded at Bucky. "See you later."

Bucky nodded back, put the car into gear and drove away, noticing that Sam watched the vehicle for some time. He could just imagine the man wanting to talk when he got back. It normally would have irritated him but tonight, it didn't. The short drive to Joyce's house was quiet and he parked at a spot a block away. Neither of them made a move to open the car doors, instead they just sat there with the night sounds of the neighbourhood all around them.

"You didn't feel pressured to say yes to my invitation, did you?" he asked, hesitantly.

"No, not at all," she answered. "For the past few days, I've been thinking about you, a lot." She gazed at his profile in the light that spilled into the car from the streetlight. "Wondering what being with you would be like. Thinking of your breath on my neck, your lips on mine, our skin touching ..."

Her breath stuttered and Bucky took her hand in his, kissing it, as he turned to her and continued. "I've also thought of how your skin would feel against mine, like dipping into a pool of water. I've imagined the feel of your hands on my chest, or in my hair, hearing sweet moans and sighs coming out of your lips." He smiled in a way that sent a pulse of heat directly to Hope's core. Is this how he was back in the day? "It's not too soon, is it?"

"No, not anymore. You make me feel seen, Bucky. Like I matter and that's something I never felt before in any of my previous relationships. I'm terrified and excited at the same time. I know my mom is concerned about us. She doesn't want me to get hurt because I've had my heart broken before, more than once."

He said nothing, as he had sensed the same, and continued to hold her hand. Her heart was pounding so hard that it sounded like a drumbeat in his ears. It was obvious she wanted to say something as if he had touched a nerve. Hope seemed equally nervous but determined.

"I want to tell you something about me." She looked through the windshield, like she was searching for something to focus on while she spoke. "My first serious crush was in my senior year in high school. He was popular, cute, and I had two classes with him. I wasn't pretty or popular then as I just got my braces off, and I was awkward. My art was everything and I would spend my lunch hours sketching. I had already been offered scholarships to two colleges for art. It was the one thing I knew I was really good at. Anyways, I sketched him, just a normal head and shoulders. Someone must have said something because he reached over in class and took my sketchbook, flipping through it, looking for the picture of him, pushing me away while I tried to get it back."

She looked over at Bucky, her eyes tearing up. He leaned towards her to kiss her forehead then smoothed her hair.

"What happened then?" he asked gently.

"He made fun of me, for being an art nerd, for drawing him." She wiped away a few tears that had spilled onto her cheeks. "The teacher told him to give the sketchbook back, but he tore it apart and tossed the pages everywhere. I froze, not believing that anyone could be that cruel. He just laughed. I grabbed as many sheets as I could and ran from the classroom to the girl's bathroom and stayed there for a long time while I bawled like a baby. Final exams started a week later, then senior prom a few days after those finished. I didn't get asked but a bunch of us girls went together. Rachel was part of the group. He was there with his date." Hope's face went dark as she relived that night. "It was like every bad teen movie. The whispering, the laughter, the elbows in the side as I walked past his group, with the kicker being a poorly drawn picture of me drooling over his sketch posted on the screen for everyone to see. It was taken down right away, but I was so humiliated I went home on the subway in my prom dress, sticking out like a sore thumb. Mom asked what happened, but I couldn't tell her the truth, not when she and Dad had tried so hard to make me feel like I mattered, that I had worth. I went upstairs to my room and took my prom dress off, then crawled into bed and cried all night. I didn't leave the house for the whole week, but I painted that self portrait of me, the one that looks like I'm sitting in the rain. I felt so alone, and I know I should have talked to Mom, but I felt like such a loser. I let a stupid boy take all my joy about art away from me. In many ways, it set the stage for all the stupid decisions I made regarding men. Sometimes, I think I should burn the painting as it was about one of the worst nights of my life."

"No, please don't do that." Bucky cupped his hands over her cheeks. "I love that painting. I connected with it the first time I saw it. It spoke to me, of how I felt after I got away from HYDRA. I was so lost and alone, trying to find my way back into the world, while not being able to ask for help, in case they turned me in. There were many times I sat huddled in the rain when I didn't have a place to stay, feeling like the girl in that painting. I saw family photos of you in the living room, but that painting ..." He breathed out with a heavy sigh, then kissed her in an intense way, before looking directly into her eyes. "That painting made me want to know you, every part of you. I know you've been hurt several times, and that someday you'll trust me enough to talk about the others who added to this pain you still have. Whoever this guy was that first made you believe you were a loser doesn't matter because he was an asshole who didn't know the depth of your soul. I knew the moment I saw that painting."

"Even when I was so rude to you?"

"That was your pain lashing out," he replied, stroking her hair. "Yeah, I was irritated at first, but we got through that, right? We have something, you, and I, that can be what we both need and want." Hope nodded, focusing intently on him. "Tonight, I felt more like myself than I have since I got away from HYDRA. I'm not talking about the guy who had a different girl on his arm every time he went out. I'm talking about the guy from 1944 who had enough of war and realized he wanted a life with someone special. He saw other guys meet a girl at a dance and know just like that, that she was the one for them, that what they felt was real. I know we barely know each other, but I think we have something worthwhile, and I want to have it all with you, Hope. The good, the bad, the bitter, the sweet, all that you make me feel when I'm with you."

She gasped lightly, then lowered her head, quietly thinking over his words. It was a lot to take in, but she felt the same. Once they got past the anger and pain that was part of their own personal shields there was something definitely there, something intense, even frightening, but potentially amazing. The driver's side door opened and closed, as Bucky came around the front of the car then opened her door, helping her out, and closing the door behind her. He locked the doors with the remote then pressed the device into her hand.

"I want you to stay with me overnight and see if there's magic there," Bucky murmured, as she leaned against the car. "It's not an ultimatum. If you're not ready for us to take that step, then I'll wait as long as it takes." He cupped her face with his right hand, then kissed her, barely touching her tongue with his, in a sweet but chaste kiss that revealed a lot. "I just wanted you to know that as far as we, as a couple are concerned, I'm in with both feet firmly planted and eyes wide open. I know that you're the one for me."

He offered her his hand, escorting her to the stairs of the brownstone. Once more, he kissed her, then stepped back, allowing her to go up the steps to the door alone. After unlocking the door, she turned to say goodbye, meeting his eyes with hers. A warmth filled her, as his soft gaze reinforced the feelings he had just revealed to her.

"Goodnight, Bucky," she smiled. "I'll see you tomorrow."

A nod was his reply, and he turned away for the short walk back to his place. There were no second thoughts or regrets about his decision to make his feelings known. In fact, Bucky felt lighter, knowing that he found the courage to open himself up like that. Outside his building, he texted Sam that he was on his way up, receiving a reply that the door was unlocked. He stepped inside and was immediately greeted by Alpine, who circled around his ankles before he picked her up. Sam was on the couch, drinking a beer and watching the late-night sports recap. Bucky grabbed his own beer and sat on the armchair.

"Everything okay?" asked Sam, carefully.

"Yeah, everything's good," he replied. "It was a good evening." He took a drink, then watched a baseball highlight. "I asked her to stay with me tomorrow night."

"Have you ...?"

"No, not yet." Bucky felt his face become warm. "We've talked about it but it's her decision." Alpine curled up on one of his legs, and he idly scratched behind her ear. "Were you ever in love?"

"Yeah, once or twice." Sam drank his beer. "When I was in college and then again when I was in the military. Neither worked out. Is that what you're feeling for Hope?"

Bucky nodded, then looked at his friend. "It's that obvious?"

"Yeah," Sam chuckled. "I could tell when you first introduced her to me. It was all over your face and by your body language. Hope is special."

"We had a rough start when we met but she's become a lot more important to me." He sighed, then drank some more of his beer. "You seemed to hit it off with Rachel."

"We did which is why I asked her out separately. I want to get to know her better. If you want, I can get a hotel for tomorrow night."

"Let's play it by ear," smiled Bucky, finishing his beer. "I'm going to bed. You can use the bathroom first."

With that declaration, the two men turned in, both thinking of what was to come.

At the brownstone, Hope turned on the kitchen light, opening the fridge door to see if there was anything to snack on. When she closed it, her mother was standing in the doorway to the kitchen.

"I'm sorry, did I wake you up?" asked Hope.

"No, I was still awake," said Joyce. "How did it go?"

"Good ... we had a good time." She pulled some milk out and gestured to her mother, who nodded and went to the pantry for some cookies. Pouring each of them a glass of milk, Hope sat at the kitchen table. "Bucky asked me to stay over tomorrow night." She looked at the time. "Well, tonight now."

Joyce hesitated, then dunked a cookie in the milk, before placing it in her mouth and chewing.

"What do you think?"

"I want to. You've seen him. He's a very virile man and I can barely keep my hands off of him."

"Is it too soon?" Joyce tried to keep her tone neutral.

"It's been almost two weeks," answered Hope. "That's longer than any other man I've been involved with. I told him something I haven't even told you. He validated me, which is more than any of them did." She dunked her own cookie, bit into the mushy part, and swallowed before looking at her mother. "I never told you about my senior prom, did I?"

Joyce slowly let her breath out. This was big and although she had often imagined what changed things for her daughter, she always wanted Hope to trust her enough with the truth. Slowly, at first, then like a torrent of flood waters, Hope revealed what happened to her that night 16 years ago. Although it wasn't what Joyce had always feared, the truth was just as devastating and she found herself choking up with sadness for her daughter, and anger at the bully that hurt her so much.

"Why did you never tell me this?" asked Joyce, gently. "You know I would have supported you."

"I know but I also know you or Dad would have confronted him, and I just wanted to put it all behind me," she answered. "I thought if I pretended like it never happened it would be better. Rachel and my girlfriends helped me get over it, but I just couldn't tell you or Dad. I'm sorry."

"So am I." Joyce grasped Hope's hand, squeezing it. "So many years were wasted not being honest with each other, about a lot of things. I knew by the painting that you felt so alone but I respected your need for privacy. Maybe, I should have been more insistent."

"No, I would have resented that." Hope squeezed back. "You kept secrets from me as well and I get why. So, I'm going to ask you for your honest opinion on something." She looked intently at her mother. "Should I trust Bucky? Is he the one who's going to be the love of my life? Or is he going to break my heart, like all the others? You know him better than I do, and I know you've been helping him deal with his own issues. Please, tell me what I should do."

Joyce breathed out, then stood up and walked towards the deck door. She opened it and stepped outside, looking up at the night sky, imagining the stars that were no longer visible because it was so bright in Brooklyn. Hope followed her, standing in the doorway, then coming outside. Her mother's behaviour puzzled her, as she expected her to immediately say yes or no inside.

"Bucky is troubled," began Joyce. "He suffered a lot while he was a prisoner of HYDRA and has severe PTSD. There are times when it's going to rear its ugly head and if you're with him, you could be in the line of fire, figuratively speaking. Will he hurt you? No, at least not intentionally." Her face softened in the light streaming out of the kitchen. "He's also sweet, and kind, and truthful. I know that he will do all he can to make you happy and if you want that more than anything, he's your guy." She placed her hands on Hope's shoulders. "He's a gentleman, first and foremost, and maybe you need to experience how a gentleman treats a woman. I won't object to you being with him, but if he ever hurts you, I'll hurt him back. I love you both, but you matter more. You always did."

Hope's eyes filled with tears, and she hugged her mother, hard. They both cried, for what happened before, for the wasted years not talking about it, and for the acknowledgement that her mother's love was absolute, without compromise. Bucky was a close friend, but he wasn't Joyce's son. If he broke Hope's heart, it would break their friendship. So much was at stake but maybe, just maybe, two broken people could be happy together.