Saving Bucky (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

Chapter 81 - Family Ties

"Torin!" shouts Mikolaj from the kitchen as James pulls the door open, guiding you inside with a gentle hand on your lower back. "Du solltest essen young man," Mikolaj chirps from the stove, stirring a large pot of something simmering. "The flocks are restless today. You 'vill need your energy."

You let out a small chuckle as James shakes his head and guides you to the couch. He kisses your cheek before leaving your side to meet the old man near the stove, reaching around Mikolaj to turn off the burners.

"We just ate," he grunts, lifting the pot with no regard to how hot the cast iron must be as he effortlessly shifts it to a back burner. 

"Nonsense!" the old man argues, batting away James' hands, seemingly unbothered by the metal fingers now that he can no longer see the red star on his arm.

"Come on old man, this way," James grunts, trying to herd Mikolaj away from the kitchen and towards the living room. But Mikolaj grows irritated, giving James' arm a rough shove as he tries to get back towards the pot. You can tell the interaction is about to escalate when a particularly annoyed look crosses James' face. As he starts to roll up his sleeves you decide it's time to take over.

"Papa."

Both men freeze, but only for a moment before Mikolaj turns and spots you, eyes lighting up. On instinct, you hold out both arms towards the man, whose smile widens as he willingly scurries away from the kitchen - soup forgotten. As the old man approaches, your stomach churns in anxiety. But as soon as his fragile arms are around you - curiously strong for a man of his age - the tension leaves your body. 

"Mein Silke," he coos, gently patting you head. "Your mozer and I are so happy you are home," he says, pulling back and gripping your shoulders, eyes cataloguing your face. "'Ve 'vere so worried. 'Ve missed you so much."

"I'm here," you say gently, leading Mikolaj towards the sofa, and sitting him down gently and taking the cushion beside him as the old man keeps one of your hands in his. James follows silently, keeping a wary eye on the old man as he takes a seat in a nearby arm chair. 

For a quiet moment, the only sound in the cabin is the crackling of the logs in the fireplace as Mikolaj runs his soft, crooked fingers over the back of your hand, letting out a content sigh. It's comforting, and a small smile drifts across your face. 

"Y/n." Your name, spoken quietly from nearby, tugs you out of the moment. You glance up to find ice-blue eyes watching the two of you. He nods towards the old man. "Now's your chance," James urges. "Talk to him. While we have the time."

Your eyes flit to the old man, who seems lost in jumbled thought as continues to trace shapes over the back of your hand. You swallow nervously, licking your lips as you try to think about what to ask the man. What can he even answer in his mental state?

"I-I don't know what to say," you whisper, glancing back at James. "He doesn't even know who I really am."

James' lips press together in a thin line as his gaze flits between you and Mikolaj for a moment. He assesses the situation, gaze narrowed, head tilted. His stare is heavy. Intense. You haven't seen him stare like this in quite sometime. 

"Do you want my opinion?" he grunts. 

Startled, having assumed he would just offer it without asking, you nod. 

"Start with what he remembers. Early memories," James says, keeping his voice low to avoid catching too much of the old man's attention. "It will be easier for him."

You hesitate, glancing back at Mikolaj. "You're sure?" you ask James quietly. "How do you know?"

Your stomach drops as James gives you a somber nod. "From experience," he says darkly.