The Red Soldier: Origins of the Red Soldier

ISSUE #8

Bucky was sat in the living room, he'd just finished his sixth cup of tea. Mary had begun to show him an album full to the brim of (Y/N)'s baby photos when he emerged from the cellar and entered. 'Fancy a pint, Buck?' he asked loudly. Bucky Barnes placed his cup and saucer onto the coffee table, excited to spend some time alone with him; the previous night had been anything but joyful.

He was glad he'd been there to comfort him, but he hated seeing (Y/N) upset; it hurt him deeply. 'Of course,' Bucky smiled, 'unless you want to show me the rest of your photo album, Mrs Havelock.' (Y/N)'s aunt shook her head.

'Get yourself away, James,' she told him, '(Y/N) might even introduce you to our Barbra if you go down her pub.' (Y/N) was visibly disgruntled by this and began to head out of the door, so Bucky had to jog to catch up to him.

'Barbra's then?' he asked jokingly once he'd caught (Y/N) outside the front door. He hated seeing him sad, but he quite liked seeing him angry; there was something quite endearing about it.

'Would you like to go to The King's Head?' he huffed, 'want Barbra to spread her legs for you?'

'(Y/N),' Bucky frowned, reaching for his arm but failing. (Y/N) (L/N) was already moving towards the front gate.

'Come on, it's just around the corner,' he said facetiously, 'you can fuck her in the cellar whilst I fuck her friend round the back.'

Bucky Barnes grabbed his arm tightly, starring down into his (E/C) eyes, 'that's not funny,' he growled.

'Then don't fucking joke about it,' (Y/N) hissed, trying to snatch his arm back but to no avail.

'I don't care where we go,' sighed Bucky, suddenly seeing (Y/N) angry wasn't so fun. 'I just want to spend time with you.' The thought of him doing anything with anyone else made him feel violently ill.

'Fine,' the doctor huffed, leading the way up the street to the bus stop. Bucky followed, asking no questions, and twenty minutes later they were sat on a bus heading further north, towards the coast.

When he stepped off the bus, following (Y/N), Bucky took in a deep breath through his nose, breathing in a fresh, salty, scent. In the distance he could hear the crashing of waves and the squawking of seagulls. 'Where are we?' he asked, pacing quickly to catch up with (Y/N) who was walking down a narrow lane.

'This is where I grew up,' (Y/N) said, unbolting a small gate and leading the way up a cobbled path. 'I haven't been here since I turned nineteen.' He leaned down and shifted a plant pot containing only dry soil and a dozen dead flowers. When (Y/N) (L/N) stood up straight, he had a small key in his hands, which he pressed into the front door lock. He breathed out a sigh of relief when the door opened, and he could step inside.

The house was quaint to say the least. There were only two rooms on the ground floor, a living room with a kitchen in it, and a bedroom off to the right. A set of steep stairs led up into the roof space. Bucky was in awe. The house, although small and dusty, was rather beautiful. 'Beach is out the back,' said (Y/N), walking through the living room and opening the back doors. A small, grassy, garden was situated out there, and beyond it sand dunes leading down to a quiet beach.

'It's beautiful,' James Barnes stated, there were no other words to describe it. Why anybody would ever want to leave such a peaceful paradise he wasn't sure, but he was certain Mrs (L/N) had a good reason. 'Is the sea cold?'

'Freezing cold,' answered (Y/N). It was early September, though the high temperatures would have suggested it was mid-July.

'Then we should go cool off, shouldn't we,' Bucky smiled, grabbing (Y/N)'s hand and leading him out of the house and through the dunes. When they reached the shore, Bucky ripped off his shirt and stepped out of his trousers, wading into the icy cold water. 'Aren't you going to join me?' he shouted to (Y/N) who waited on the sand. He shook his head, and so Bucky walked out of the water. 'It's not as cold as it looks,' he lied – it was colder, 'it's not because I was teasing you back at your grandma's, is it?'