Bring Me Home // Bucky Barnes

Chapter XXXI - Misty Memories

Hours had passed and Bucky watched her as she slept. He brushed his fingers over her cheek as she lay there and felt his eyes stinging with tears. His heart ached as she lay there vulnerable and alone, lost in whatever place her mind took her to. He wanted her to wake up and smile at him. He wanted to see the endearing way the rose of her cheeks betrayed her when he was close to her. He just wanted her. Why did this woman bring this out of him? He'd never felt so linked to someone and yet he barely knew her.

"How's she holding up?" Bruce stood awkwardly in the doorway as Bucky got to his feet.

He cleared his throat and wiped away his tears before he turned to face the doctor.

"She's still out." His voice was thick. "She hasn't moved but the bleeding seems to have stopped."

Bruce nodded as he walked towards her and placed his hand on her forehead. "Her temperature is back down which is good. Last time it took a  lot longer for it to settle. She'll wake up soon." He paused as he glanced up at Bucky, still in his suit, his eyes haunted and his face drawn. "You should get some rest Barnes. She's not going anywhere."

Bucky sighed as he ran his hands over his face and through his hair. He looked at her laying there in her dress and worry washed over him again.

"Doc, I - erm - the dress? She's not comfortable in it."

Bruce chuckled as Bucky retrieved a t-shirt and some sweats from his drawer and stood awkwardly looking over her.

"Do you want me to get Nat?"

Relief washed over him as he let out the breath he had been holding. "Yes, please."

*

She could feel the pull of the world shifting back around her, correcting itself, energy leaving her. The air around her filled with static and her skin prickled as she felt the atoms of her own being settle into place.

Her mind was heavy as she lay wrapped in blankets, the mattress beneath her softer than she was used to. Groggily Elizabeth opened her eyes. They seemed to sink closed again and she fought against the darkness. She needed to know he was okay.

Rolling onto her side she felt the shift of fabric. She looked down and saw she was wearing grey sweats and a baggy t-shirt. They weren't hers and she didn't know how she got into them. Her dress was placed carefully and delicately folded at the foot of the bed. Not her bed.

As confusion settled in her mind Elizabeth pulled herself upright and looked around the dark space she was in. It was hard to make anything out in the darkness and she shivered as her eyes adjusted.

The room was didn't hold much. Across the floor were small piles of books, some propped open by other books and others scattered on the ground, discarded once they were finished. In the corner by the door there was a helmet and a leather jacket but around her there wasn't much else she could see. She turned her attention to the bed she was in as a small smile settled over her lips. The bedsheets were dark and soft, like they were rarely used, because anything too soft felt too comfortable for him when he slept alone and the pillows were perfectly formed clouds because he'd never liked using pillows. This was Bucky's room.

His soft snores were the only sound in the room and she looked deeper into the darkness.

His lips were parted as his head rolled to the side. She climbed quietly out of the bed and towards him, desperate to see him more clearly. He was peaceful and his face was soft as he sat with his arms crossed over his chest, his breathing was deep and even and in his sleep his face lost all traces of worry and uncertainty. This was the James she'd curled up beside each night in the tents, the James who whispered plans about churches and little houses and futures she longed for.

A nostalgic longing crept into her chest as she watched him sleep.

"I guess the time-bomb finally went off, huh Buck?" She whispered into the night. Turning her back to him she found herself sneaking out of the room, careful to avoid the various books scattered at her feet, and down the corridor.

The living room was a mess. Around her were scraps of tin and metal, shattered glass and scorch marks. Trailing along one of the stains of power she had left behind she felt the pull of guilt. Flashes of the fight seemed to dance behind her eyes: Clint throwing Steve his shield, Bucky throwing a broken machine to the floor, Natasha and Maria crying out as flames tore through her, Sam calling out to Bucky to get down as another machine flew towards him. The sanctity of the compound had been shattered and pulled apart by Ultron and Elizabeth felt fear and pain wash over her again.

She tiptoed through the destruction and sat at the piano.

*

"Nat?" Steve whispered in the dark as he poked his head into Natasha's bedroom. "You awake?"

"Mhmm." The soft sigh of sleepy acknowledgement made Steve chuckle as he stepped closer into the room.

"You hear it?"

"She's hurting isn't she?"

Steve sighed as he sat on the edge of Natasha's bed and she sat herself up, rubbing his shoulders and down his arms as he lowered his face into his hands. He could feel her rest her face against his shoulder blades, he was comforted by it, and he relaxed against her. The swell of piano music travelled through the compound as he sat hurting for her.

"What do you wanna do Cap?" Nat smiled.

"I think I should check on her."

"Then let's go check on her."

*

Bucky smiled as he heard her sing. Her voice was soft and breathy and her words gave him insight into her mind. She dripped with sadness and her fingers danced between the keys. The music swelled as he stepped forwards. He was transfixed, completely enamoured and he knew it. He wanted to know her.

Elizabeth was lost in the music. She was lost in the pain and the memories. She was lost in the blue of Bucky's eyes and the hushed whispers they had once shared in the night. She was lost in the calm they stole in the war and the battle they now faced today. She could feel it building and she let go of control.

Flickers of blue mist swam out from her mind, encasing her and entwining with one another. Bucky stopped moving. Stopped breathing. He watched in awe and hesitation as the mist began to mingle and images began to form. Memories began to form. Memories he could not recall.

He watched as it unfolded before him and his heart hammered in his chest.

He sat beside Steve, smiling and laughing in their uniform as he looked past his best friend and smiled lovingly at the woman approaching them. She was smiling, a smile that filled her face and her eyes sparkled as he drank her in. He pulled her towards him as she wrapped her arms around his neck, giggling as he whispered against her skin.

He was broken and bruised, his uniform hanging from his shrunken frame as he pushed the gun he held into another man's hands. He watched himself march forwards with determination as she stood rooted to the spot, tears falling and hands shaking. He saw himself wrap his arm around her waist and pin her against him, his lips crashing into hers with passion and adoration as he cupped her face and her fingers wove into his hair.

He tore his eyes from the thousands of moments of laughter, bliss and happiness he could not remember and glued them to her. He knew her. He knew her and he couldn't remember her.

Elizabeth let the pain consume her as her memories swam out and around her. She closed her eyes, desperate not to see the physical manifestation of her grief and sank into the song.

Bucky watched as he danced with her, as he lifted her and loved her. He watched her soothe him out of nightmares and he watched her put him in his place when he crossed the line. Bucky watched himself fall in love and his heart broke. How was it that he couldn't remember any of this? He couldn't remember her?

Slowly the mist dissipated and Elizabeth stopped playing. A small sob escaped her lips as her shoulders slumped forwards.

"Lizzie?"

She jumped to her feet, spinning around to face him as he stood before her, fear and confusion written across his face as he reached his hands out towards her.

"Lizzie?" His voice shook and his eyes pinned her to the spot. "What was that?"