[ 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

[nerves_of_ice]

His hand twitches under her gentle touch, and he looks up at her, then back and forth between them.

“Children?”

[from_the_outside]

"Yeah." Steve smiles at him.

"I've met most of them. You're an uncle, Bucky."

[nerves_of_ice]

Bucky stares at him like he’s just started speaking another language, one he himself doesn’t know yet. He’s not entirely sure he hasn’t.

“What?”

[from_the_outside]

"A uncle," Steve repeats, his smile gentle but warm. "And you'd like the kids, you really would. They're swell."

[nerves_of_ice]

That’s not the problem, he thinks. The problem is that they’d be horrified by the monster he’s become, compared to whatever they might have been told about their uncle - fuck, how is that even possible? - who died in the war all those years ago.

“I bet they were thrilled,” he manages, knowing he has to say something. “To see you.”

[from_the_outside]

"Probably about as thrilled as I was to see them," Steve says, wistful, as Sharon's fingers squeeze Bucky's hand before letting go. "I know it's... a lot to take in."

[nerves_of_ice]

His fingers feel cold where Sharon’s hand had been, without her warmth.

“All of this is. For everyone.” Maybe saying the obvious will help. Somehow.

[from_the_outside]

Steve blows out a breath and goes back to his eggs. "Yeah. For everyone."

Sharon watches them both, toying with her own breakfast, her appetite nonexistent. Neither she nor Steve are really equipped to help Bucky, not with everything he told them, and it's possible they'll do something to actively harm him. Would he even be able to stop them? "Anyway," she says, setting down her fork and going back to her coffee. "I can show you the letters and files later."

[nerves_of_ice]

“Okay.” It’s barely a murmur, low but clear. “Thank you.”

He doesn’t know what to do. He would if it were a mission, but now? He doesn’t know how to stop hurting them.

[from_the_outside]

Steve glances pointedly at her plate, and she sighs, pushes it over to him, still mostly full. "You finish it," she tells him. "And then we should probably figure out how we're going to spend the time we have here, before you need to go to New York, Steve."

[nerves_of_ice]

He tracks the movement of the plate and how little she’s eaten with a frown. His glance flickers to her face and he studies her for a moment before deciding not to press the issue.

Bucky looks back at Steve. “What objectives do we have?” he asks, splitting his attention between them.

[from_the_outside]

"We'll need to keep an eye on the news," she muses, considering. "And decide if one or more of us will go into the city to be with Nat at the hearing."

"I'll need to figure out what to tell the Avengers," Steve says. "And what our next steps should be."

[nerves_of_ice]

He’s quiet for a second or two, considering them. “Would more intel help? On HYDRA?”

[from_the_outside]

Both of them focus on him like hunting dogs that have caught a scent. "Yeah," Steve says. "That would help a lot."

[nerves_of_ice]

He nods. This feels familiar, he realizes; working together with the two of them toward a common goal.

The feeling lets his shoulders unknot a little, causes a subtle relaxation to run through him. “I have some. More when I can sort through my head. And I know where to find more. Targets. And their plans.”

[from_the_outside]

"Great," Steve says, instantly. "We can go through what you do know today, that'll help us plan."

Sharon gives Bucky a curious glance. "What do you mean, you know where to find more?"

[nerves_of_ice]

“HYDRA has bases hidden all over the world,” he tells them, very quietly. “The Winter Soldier’s been to more than a few of them. I…know where some of them are. I’ll remember more. The systems can be stripped.”

[from_the_outside]

Steve turns to her. "Do you have maps here?"

Sharon nods and gets up, pouring the last dregs of her coffee into the sink before rinsing out her mug. "Maps... we can get a board." She looks around the bright kitchen, lips twisting, wry. "Well, I've had worse war rooms."

[nerves_of_ice]

“Not here.” It’s too quick, but he can’t help it. The conditioning stirs and he shoves it back by concentrating on information security, rather than on the revulsion he feels at turning this space into an operational one.

“Some other room. Would be better.”

[from_the_outside]

Her eyebrows flicker into a frown, but she nods. "We have plenty to choose from," she points out, and Steve stifles a quiet laugh. "Sounds like we've got our day pretty well planned out."

[nerves_of_ice]

“Maybe that big dining room?” he suggests, thinking of the table. “Plenty of room for maps. I could get started marking known sites.”

[from_the_outside]

"Sure." Sharon comes back over to take their cleared plates, bringing them to the sink. "I'll go grab them in a second. You guys go get set up."

[nerves_of_ice]

He hesitates, eyeing her preparations, but takes her at her word and tips his head toward the hall with a glance to Steve.

“Go ahead. I need to grab something from upstairs.”

[from_the_outside]

She rinses off the plates and sets them in the dishwasher, along with the mugs, then heads through the hall and moves through the house until she reaches the library. Somewhere in here, she knows, her father keeps an atlas and a collection of maps.

Once they've been retrieved, she heads into the dining room, spreading atlas and rustling paper over the table.

[nerves_of_ice]

He'd more needed a moment to himself than he'd actually needed the battered composition notebook, but he has to bring something back downstairs with him and it'll do as well as anything else. Bucky shoves the brochure from Steve's exhibit more firmly into the back of it when it starts to slide out and grabs a pen as well, then hesitates.

He allows himself to sit down and breathe, just for a second, trying to put his thoughts in some kind of order. Maybe if he treats it like a mission report it'll be easier. But should he be doing that with them? He doesn't know. He doesn't know how to operate in the world the way the man he was before the war did. He barely knows his own name.

One step at a time, he decides, and the first one is out the door of the guest room. Bucky goes back downstairs, moving in near silence, and cautiously enters the dining room.

He comes to stand by Sharon at the table and studies the display. "Where do you want me to start?"