[ WWII AU ] a ghost story

[from_the_outside]

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."

Comments

[from_the_outside]

Steve's face falls, and she comes to join him, her phone in her hand and her expression wry. "Come on," she coaxes, gently.

"Let's see what he has to say for himself."

[marvel_npc]

"It's where we used to hide the spare key," he murmurs. "For the apartment. First for the one where I lived with my mother, and then later, ours." Steve looks up at her. "Under a chunk of brick near the door, just like that."

[from_the_outside]

"I guess he's remembering some things, at least. Come on."

She slips an arm around him and coaxes him towards the house, where Sam and Nat are waiting.

[marvel_npc]

Sam opens the door and leads the way in. He waves a hand at the living room, but doesn't go that way. Instead, he tilts his head toward the kitchen. "Why don't I put some coffee on. Or tea, if you want that instead."

It's an offer for them to be able to watch that video alone, if they want, and he's pretty sure Steve'll recognize it.

[from_the_outside]

"In a minute, maybe," Sharon tells him.

Although, who knows? They might want something stronger. But Sam's involved in all of this, and he deserves to know what's going on. Whatever message Bucky left for them, he and Nat can hear it, too.

[marvel_npc]

"Okay then." It's their call. Sam's not gonna argue, especially as he'd kind of like to hear what the guy's got to say for himself. "In that case, come on over here."

He leads the way into the living room and goes to the television, where he uncoils a long cable that's plugged into the back of it from a hook nearby. As he holds it out to Sharon, it's obvious that the adapter's clearly designed to let a phone project its contents to the television. "I use it to watch my nephews' videos and pictures and things when they send them," he explains. "All the family down in Louisiana."

[from_the_outside]

She accepts the cord and plugs it into her phone, then waits for him to turn on the TV and make sure the volume is good. Looking down at the video, her thumb hovers for a moment over the frozen still before she taps the screen and allows the recording to play back.

[nerves_of_ice]

The video clip opens with a close-up view of Bucky's face, his brow creased slightly in concentration before he sits back, evidently having stabilized the phone on whatever he's using to hold it. It's quiet, wherever he's filmed this, with no background noise other than a faint, distant trickle of running water. The image is a little dim, but there's enough ambient light of some kind that it's easy to see him clearly, as well as the brick and mortar of the wall he leans back against as he stares into the camera. The look in his eyes is bleak, but there's no sign of the emptiness his gaze had held before - only weary resignation.

"Hi." He sounds as tired as he looks, his voice low but still clear. "I figure I'm talking to both Steve and Sharon right now, not sure who else, if anyone. It's morning when I'm filming this, the day after." He frowns for a second, considering, and clarifies. "The day after Insight. After you stopped Insight, I mean. You and Natasha and I guess his name's Sam? And whoever else you had helping you. We all know it sure as hell wasn't me."

He takes a long, shuddering breath. "By now I figure you know more about the Winter Soldier than you did before. Or if you don't, you will soon. The short version is that I've been HYDRA's puppet for the last seventy years. Their weapon. Whatever you've heard, it's probably all true. I'm a criminal, a terrorist, an assassin and a murderer. And that's why, even though you both asked me to - I'm not coming back. I'm sorry."

[from_the_outside]

At her side, Steve makes an abortive motion forward, as if he could reach through the video and bodily haul Bucky out to them. Sharon's hand goes to his arm, her knuckles as white as her face as she watches and listens.

Sorry. He's sorry. If this is what he'd planned to do, why come see her the night before? Why leave this recording? He has to know it will only make them more determined to find him. She makes an idle note of the sound of running water – it doesn't really matter if they found where he recorded this, because he'll be long gone – and grips Steve's arm a little tighter.

[nerves_of_ice]

He waits for a couple of seconds, studying the camera almost as if he's listening to something, then lets out a soft breath. "I don't remember everything," he says, after a moment. "Not yet, anyway. It's like looking in a broken mirror. It's all in pieces, like me. But I remember enough to be pretty sure that you're both not okay with what I just said. I'm sorry about that, too. But it's the right thing to do. There are reasons. More than just one. And anyway, I'm not - I don't w--"

He chokes on air for a second, coughing violently, before he shakes his head and takes another deep, ragged breath. "You got me out of hell. I was in hell, and you got me out. It's enough. More than enough. I'm okay - I'll be okay now. I'll send you a postcard or something from time to time, so you'll know. Don't worry about me. Please."

The corners of his mouth quirk in the faintest of smiles, there and then gone. "Take care of yourselves. And each other."

He leans forward again, reaching out with a gloved hand, and the screen goes black.

[from_the_outside]

The screen goes black, and she feels the now-familiar clench of her stomach, the flood of pain and disappointment. She's holding too tightly to Steve's arm, but she's not sure either of them can even feel it. "You're right, Nat."

She doesn't look away from the blank screen, her voice carefully, so carefully controlled. "He's an idiot."

[marvel_npc]

"Mm-hm," he hears Nat say. He's pretty sure he was staring at the screen hard enough to leave Bucky's image printed on the backs of his eyes, or maybe that's just how it feels. Steve takes a careful breath and covers Sharon's hand on his arm with his own as Nat continues, "I'd guess he thinks he's going to be too much trouble for you, for some reason. And he's trying to protect you both from that."

[from_the_outside]

"I let him make that call once before, and it cost him everything." Her voice is a bare murmur, and she can't quite look at Steve, even with his hand over hers, even knowing he doesn't blame her.

"It's not happening again."

[marvel_npc]

He lifts her hand from his arm so that he can wrap it around her shoulders instead. "He doesn't get to decide for us," he says, instead of agreeing to anything that might sound like Sharon's fault.

"And I'll tell him that to his face. Once we find him."

[from_the_outside]

She leans into him, her own arm going around his back in a motion that's as familiar to her now as pushing back her own hair or tying her shoes. "Once we find him," she agrees.

[marvel_npc]

"Okay," Sam says. "Question is, how're we going to do that? Anyone have any idea where to start looking?"

Steve opens his mouth, but nothing comes out at first. He doesn't have the first clue, not really. Would Bucky go back to Brooklyn? Would he try to get as far away from them as he can? His glance falls on Nat, who's looking thoughtful. "Do you have any ideas?" he asks. "You said you'd worked with him."

[from_the_outside]

Sharon looks over at her friend, too, but Nat shakes her head. "I did," she tells them. "I might be able to get you some intel. Might." She glances at them both in turn. "And I don't know how much it could help."

"Anything would be a start," Sharon murmurs. It's only been a few hours, but he could be on his way anywhere, by now.

[marvel_npc]

"I'd appreciate it," he tells Nat, as earnest as he can make it. She nods. "I'll reach out to my contact and let you know what they say. In the meantime..." She makes a face. "I'd expect Fury or Hill will be calling any minute with an update on yesterday's fallout."

[from_the_outside]

The thought of dealing with Fury's 'next steps' exhausts her more than anything else. SHIELD has fallen. What else matters?

"Maybe I'll pretend I still don't have my phone."

[marvel_npc]

"Sounds like a smart idea to me." Sam tips his head back toward the kitchen. "Come on, y'all. Imma make that coffee and dig out something to snack on, and we can figure out what comes next."

[from_the_outside]

"Good idea."

She nudges Steve with her arm and a small smile. "Coffee sounds great. You have any cinnamon?"

[marvel_npc]

"Believe it," Sam promises, and Steve finds a smile of his own. He turns Sharon toward the kitchen and starts that way.

"Okay. Coffee, food, and next steps. Sounds good to me."

[nerves_of_ice]

* * * * * *

He leaves Steve's bike and Sharon's phone for them to find and drifts back into the city. Most of his equipment is cached on a few different rooftops, which is fine for now. He doesn't know what he's going to do next, but there's no sense in running blind until he figures out where he's going to run to. Wearing a baseball cap to partially obscure his face, he wanders along the edge of the Mall, moving back and forth among some of the tourist groups as though he belongs there. It's while he's drifting past one particular tour guide that he discovers that there's an exhibit on Captain America at the National Air and Space Museum.

He lets himself be drawn into the crowd as he approaches the museum. It's easy to do; there are a lot of people headed that way. He uses that fact to blend with the swirls of motion among different groups and continues to follow the crowd, past the signs with Steve's face on them, into the first of the exhibit halls. Most of what he sees brings back scattered flickers of memory, not much more, until he rounds a corner and sees his own face looking back at him.

Slowly, very slowly, he approaches the brightly-lit display and begins to read.

Several minutes later, he's drifting with the crowd once more, struggling with the chaos in his mind. He spots a side room that's advertising a documentary of some sort and ducks inside, hoping to find a moment's balance under cover of darkness, only to freeze in his tracks at the sound of Peggy Carter's voice.

Her address had been in Sharon's phone, he remembers.

It's probably not a good idea, but he can't bring himself to care. It's the work of only a few minutes to make his way back out of the museum and onto a bus that'll take him where he needs to go.

[marvel_npc]

The townhouse door opens at his knock, and Anna looks out with interest and a little suspicion. After the message she'd received from Sharon and Captain Rogers – and what had happened yesterday – she thinks it's reasonable.

"Yes?"

[nerves_of_ice]

"Hi." He digs deep and finds a smile, at least a small one. "I'm a friend of Sharon's? I guess you know she's been busy these last few days, and I told her I'd swing by and see how her aunt was doing."