Edelweiss || Bucky x Reader

Chapter Forty Two

I sit by the open window in a dining chair, my hands around a full glass of water and a thin blanket draped over my shoulders. I think about a lot of things, but they all seem to come back to the man who I thought was Klein. There's this feeling about him that I just can't shake. A familiarity. It doesn't scare me like it should.

It's his apartment I woke up in and that I sit in now. It's not all that large, but feels very open because there's not much furniture to create clutter. What furniture he does have is plain and inoffensive, but lacks expression. It's also new. Walls white, floorboards rich dark brown, and a small kitchen with a tiled counter that sticks off the wall like a bar. The home is yet to have been truly lived in.

"You doing ok?" Sam asks as he pulls up one of the other chairs. It's just us here now.

I look down at my hands and then back to him, unsure of whether the question has any meaning at all.

"I don't know." I answer as I drink from the glass, just to fill the silence.

"Yeah, I figured as much." He says with a nod. "I can keep giving you space if you'd like, but first I just want to catch you up and ask you a few questions. You cool with that?"

I nod.

"Ok, good. First thing. We sent that whole get up they made you wear to the FBI."

I glance down at the too big t-shirt and plaid pajama pants that I've been dressed in instead of the black bodysuit designed to catch bullets.

"Who's clothes are these, then?" I ask.

"Well, I was going to get to that, but since you asked," Sam says. "You were out cold when we brought you in here. We called in the FBI as soon as we made sure you were ok. They wanted to collect evidence, evidence being anything connected to Hydra, and after half an hour they were getting impatient. But you hadn't woken up yet, so Bucky offered to let you wear his clothes."

"Bucky is the one I yelled at, isn't he?" I ask regretfully.

"Hey kid, try not to feel too bad about that." He says with a little smile. "Bucky... he understands better than anyone else."

"Why?" I ask.

"Well, he..." He pauses and thinks. "He'll have that conversation with you himself. I'll just say that he knows what you're going through."

I blink in slight confusion at his
non-answer.

"Anyways, the second thing I wanted to get to is, well, you." He says.

"What about me?"

"Start with the earliest thing you can remember." He says as he sets his phone on the windowsill and presses a red circle on the screen. "Doesn't matter what."

I shut my eyes and think. In the darkness, I find myself pushing through odd shapes and blurred faces while distant voices talk in the background.

"One month ago Alexander Pierce was killed and our secrets with S.H.I.E.L.D. were exposed."

This is Klein's voice

"If we are to survive this we have one option."

Ah, yes.

"Her."

It's getting clearer

"I know you won't fail me."

"Klein." I say suddenly as I open my eyes. Sam looks up at me. "I remember Klein, talking to what's left of Hydra."

"Hydra's supposed to be dead." He says, an uneasiness in his voice. I nod.

"They're supposed to be." I say. "But they're far from it. Wounded, yes, but not dead."

He reaches behind him and pulls a pen and legal pad off the kitchen counter.

"Who's this 'Klein' guy, then?" He asks as he jots something down on the paper.

"Volker Klein." I say grimly. "He's the self appointed head of Hydra. Not everyone was on board, but he always had her-" I stop as I catch my mistake. "Me, sorry. He had me to shut up anyone brave enough to say something.  Now that I'm gone, I wouldn't be all that surprised if he's been thrown out, maybe even killed. God, I've known him since... well I can't remember I time when I didn't. Though I suppose that's a low bar." A small, breathy laugh escapes me. Sam smiles. The corners of my lips lift just a little, and I feel warm. The moment passes and I try to continue my recollection of events. "After- After that, it gets a little blurry, let's see... the mission. I was briefed on the mission."

"What was the mission?" He asks, taking a break from writing to look at me.

"Execute Natasha Romanoff, Steven Rogers, James Barnes, and-" I cringe inwardly. "...Samuel Wilson."

"No hard feelings, you're not the first person who's tried to kill me this week." He says with a laugh. I drink again so he doesn't see my guilt. "Does that mean you know who we are? Or our names, at least?"

"No, it's..." I trail off, slowly shaking my head. "They get lost in all the others, I guess. When they give me missions, they don't talk about my targets like they're people. More like they're obstacles. A means to an end."

He nods.

"Ok, you were given the mission. What happened next?"

"I tried to kill you." I say after a moment. "And then I woke up, but I was me again. I had my body back."

His pen stops its scratching.

"What do you mean you 'got your body back'?"

"It's hard to describe." I say slowly. "There's a lot of gaps to fill, but I remember the feeling being like a kind of dizziness, confusing and distant. I was always watching myself, but it felt like someone else was making my decisions. Like someone else had my body."

"Gotcha." He's writing again. "That's all for now. Thanks sweetheart, you've been a big help."

As he stands to leave, a question I'd shoved to the back of my mind forces it's way through my lips and makes itself known.

"Hey, Sam?" I ask.

He turns as he reaches the door.

"Yeah?"

"When, uh... when will Bucky be back?" I ask him hesitantly. The ghost of a smile graces his lips. "And if not soon, can you tell him I'm sorry? And say thank you for me?"

"I'll tell him you asked for him." He chuckles softly. "I have a feeling he'll be back soon enough."