Soldier 259

Chapter 17

Soldier 259

    I run the fingers on my left hand through Night's glossy thick fur, the other hand I'm using to hold up the book I'm reading. Night lays his head on my leg and scoots closer to me on the bed in my "room", probably feeling bad for trying to attack me. I don't blame him, T'Challa forced him to attack, it wasn't Night's fault.

   The door opens and I look up from my book, Night's head pops up and his tail starts wagging. He yips and runs over my legs to the person standing at the door, jumping on him and licking at his hands. Bucky laughs and pushes him down. It seems that Bucky was the one who looked after Night while I was in my room alone, Night seems to have taken a liking to him. I wonder, does Night remember Bucky from before?

    I put my book down beside me on the bed and swing my legs over the side of the bed. Night runs over to me and lays down at my feet. Nervously, Bucky stands in the doorway, his hand stuffed in the front pockets of his black jeans as he stares at his feet.

"How are the others?" I ask, nervous about what he will say. The last time I saw them was when I faced a crazed Night. They too, had to face challenges that would trigger their memories, it hasn't been easy for us, at least me, to remember.

  Bucky looks up, "Fine. They ask about you, all the time. You have impacted their lives greatly."

   I sigh, relieved. "Good. I was worried about them. I'm not use to being away from them so long." I admit. Ever since my memories have come back, I've been admitting more stuff about myself and what I have done in my past.

  Bucky smiles and walks over to the bed, sitting down beside me. I tense, I know that we were once in love, but that was a long time ago. People change, I change. Can he even love the woman I have become? This monster that kills for others and nearly gets by to live another day? I sure hope so, I remember my feelings that I felt for Bucky and I must admit, it's hard not to feel them again.

   Bucky traces his normal hand over his metal hand. I watch him. "I know what you're going through. I went through it as well. I remembered stuff, terrible stuff that I had done, and I denied it. Thought that even though I had killed, that I wasn't capable of killing innocents that they hadn't told me to kill."

"Bucky, I don't deny that I have killed. I don't deny that I was nothing but a puppet that did their dirty wishes. Because if I do deny it, then I deny the friends and family that I have gained during that time. Then I would be denying 117, 284, and 60. I would be denying that I had ever met them. I would never do that. They were the ones who helped get me through some stuff that would hold me back."

"Oh. I never had people that had my back as your crew does. I nearly had people who would follow me into a mission and I would know that I would probably be the only one to survive. I never had someone to help me."

   I grab a hold of his metal arm and intertwine my fingers with his. I see him tense, trying not to squeeze too tight and hurt me, and smile. "Do you not trust it?"

"I don't want to hurt you?"

"I've been hurt many times by many people. One more won't hurt." I say with a smile.

   Bucky frowns, "I don't want you to suffer ever again. I want you to have a normal life."

  I laugh, "Bucky, I'm not a normal person. I'm friends with assassins and a Wakandan King, I'm never going to have a normal life."

   Bucky stands, nearly stepping on Night's tail, and puts his hands behind the back of his head and sighs. "That's the point! You shouldn't be friends with assassins! You shouldn't even know any!"