Sharon Carter (
from_the_outside) wrote2023-05-06 08:21 pm
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[ WWII AU ] a ghost story
It's been almost two years since she's been home, and little by little, the grief has gotten easier to live with.
It hasn't gone away. But she's able to focus on her job, watch movies, chat with friends, sleep most nights. She still dreams about him, but the dreams are tinged with wistful longing and only sometimes does she wake up with tears on her cheeks. She can't have his picture out in this apartment, Kate's apartment, but it's safe in the mountain house, along with his last letter to her, and she has a scan on her phone to look at when the long day is over and she's in bed, the stars from the lamp he'd given her filling her dark room.
Steve has helped, more than she could ever explain, and she hopes she's helped him in return. Aside from a few deeply classified missions here and there, they haven't worked together all that much, but she still sees him almost every day. In the halls, she's undercover as his mild-mannered neighbor, Kate, but in her secure apartment they can talk over anything, everything.
And it works. Every day is a little easier. They lean on each other when they need to, and they spend hours remembering and reminiscing about Bucky, talking shop, chatting about how Steve's fitting into the future. It's nice. She still misses Bucky, an ache that never really goes away, but they can both breathe through it, work through it, live through it.
She's on her way up from the basement laundry machines when she hears a familiar step in the hall, and has to smile to herself – first her own, then Kate's sweeter, more open one. "Hey, neighbor."
It hasn't gone away. But she's able to focus on her job, watch movies, chat with friends, sleep most nights. She still dreams about him, but the dreams are tinged with wistful longing and only sometimes does she wake up with tears on her cheeks. She can't have his picture out in this apartment, Kate's apartment, but it's safe in the mountain house, along with his last letter to her, and she has a scan on her phone to look at when the long day is over and she's in bed, the stars from the lamp he'd given her filling her dark room.
Steve has helped, more than she could ever explain, and she hopes she's helped him in return. Aside from a few deeply classified missions here and there, they haven't worked together all that much, but she still sees him almost every day. In the halls, she's undercover as his mild-mannered neighbor, Kate, but in her secure apartment they can talk over anything, everything.
And it works. Every day is a little easier. They lean on each other when they need to, and they spend hours remembering and reminiscing about Bucky, talking shop, chatting about how Steve's fitting into the future. It's nice. She still misses Bucky, an ache that never really goes away, but they can both breathe through it, work through it, live through it.
She's on her way up from the basement laundry machines when she hears a familiar step in the hall, and has to smile to herself – first her own, then Kate's sweeter, more open one. "Hey, neighbor."
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"I don't doubt that. Or you. Ever."
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"We promised we'd keep an eye out for each other, when I got back. For you. And we have."
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"I'd have been happy for you. If you were. Just so you know."
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Sharon shakes her head, her ponytail flipping against the back of her neck. "I know you would have," she murmurs. "But we weren't. We aren't. I do love him, Bucky, but it's never been like that with us. He's been my best friend for these last two years, ever since I got back. We needed each other."
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And maybe Bucky isn't that man anymore, either, but none of them have any idea what might happen with him now that he isn't regularly getting his brain scrambled or being forced into cryostasis. She doesn't know if they can ever be what they were to each other again, but those feelings never died, they were just lying dormant without him.
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"I don't know what to do."
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"Neither do I."
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Bucky makes himself draw a deep breath and lets it out slowly, then takes the next mental step toward a new, uncertain future.
"You said you wanted to go for a walk?"
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She gets up with her coffee, goes to rummage in a drawer for some paper and a pencil. "We can leave Steve a note."
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"Let me just get my sneakers on and we can get going."
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"Ready?"
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After a moment, he thinks to ask, "Where are we going?"
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"There are these old caves I used to prowl around when I was a kid... I used to pretend there was treasure hidden there."
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"You told me about that once. Didn't you? Your... your father was involved somehow? Maybe?"
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"-- mixed up in there. Hard to untangle. But there are... threads, I guess. Trails to follow. I don't know if that makes any sense."
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Even with everything, it's beyond sweet to be able to walk with him into the woods around the house. "Considering everything. But that's good, Bucky. We can work with threads."
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It comes slipping off her tongue just like it did last night, easy and thoughtless. "We'll figure it out. Steve and I are gonna help you, however we can."
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Bucky keeps easy pace beside her and lets the whirlwind of confusion and more in his mind just wash through him.
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