Disoriented » Captain America

chapter ten

10 x one ghost to another

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Steve brought me to the bedroom Bucky had been staying in. He'd told me beforehand that Bucky hadn't really spoken to anyone since they'd found him trapped via his metal arm, and that he blatantly refused to leave the room.

That was not the Bucky I knew, but I didn't have to say that, because I knew Steve was having similar thoughts, probably constantly.

So instead of saying anything (at the risk of sounding stupid) I hugged Steve tight before he actually opened the door to Bucky's room, in hopes of assuring him that some day, everything would be okay.

Steve went in first. "Hey, Buck," I heard him say as I lingered out in the hall, shoving my fingers through my hair and doing my best to remain patient as I heard him address his best friend. "I've got someone that wants to see you."

"We've been over this," I heard Bucky say gruffly, though his voice was quieter than I'd anticipated, "I don't want to see anyone."

"I know," Steve said quietly. "Trust me on this one, please?"

There was a low huff of a sigh before Steve pushed the door open further and beckoned me in. I popped in with ease, eyes flashing across the room and taking everything in quickly. It was a bare room, not decorated, with only a bed and a bureau. I could see a variety of disassembled weapons on said bureau, but that wasn't where Bucky was.

He was seated on the bed, slouched over on his knees, his metal arm glinting in the dim light that came from the ceiling. His hair was long, like the last time I'd seen him, and it hung over his face, obscuring my view of his usually mischievous blue eyes. I could feel more than see his gaze on me as I strode into the room, passing Steve and moving lithely to sit beside Bucky. I left at least a foot of space between us, perched on the edge of his bed all the same, and studying him as he turned to do the same to me.

It took him only a few seconds before I could see the glimmer of recognition in his eyes, and then he shoved his hair out of his face and regarded me openly; "Jo?"

I gave him a small but encouraging smile in return, tipping my head to one side as we made eye contact. "Bucky," I returned. "Long time no see."

I watched as he glanced over at Steve for a moment, his expression one I couldn't interpret, before his attention returned to me. "You're a time traveler."

"Indeed," I nodded. "You figure that out most recently?"

He nodded carefully. "I put two and two together after . . . the incident with the helicarrier."

"That's when your memory started coming back?" I asked, quirking a brow.

Another nod, though this time he didn't offer a verbal explanation. I had a feeling that was how he was handling most conversations lately, and I didn't blame him. I knew much of what the Winter Soldier had done, and I knew that if all of his memory was returning, he was likely wallowing deep in self-hatred over most of what he'd done while under Hydra's control. Again, didn't blame him.

"It's good you figured it out," I continued, leaning back on his bed and looking over at Steve. He was watching the two of us hopefully. "I didn't want to have to explain it to you. Not that I was worried I'd have to . . . you and Stevie are easily some of the smartest people I've met."

Bucky cracked the barest of smiles when I referred to Cap as Stevie, and though I was sure he didn't want it to be noticed, I caught it. It only served to encourage me.

"Also, from one ghost to another," I said, studying Bucky as he finally turned to look at me, "being somewhere with people that actually, truly care about you . . . it's not a bad thing."

His brows rose, though I wasn't sure if he noticed. I watched as he licked his lips, before looking down at his hands. "You weren't a brain-washed assassin."

"No," I agreed. "No, but I've got my own sins."

He looked at me expectantly, and I allowed a half-smile to curve my lips.

I looked up at the ceiling then, contemplating the best way to be of comfort to Bucky, before realizing there wouldn't be comfort. But there could be empathy. "All of time and space is spinning around in my brain at all times," I began, my eyes going out of focus as I spoke. "I know what's a fixed point in time, and what's not. I've witnessed wars, the toppling of governments, assassinations, the end of species . . . the end of planets." I licked my lips. "Most of the time, with things so big as all of that, I can't stop them. I can't fix it, I can't change it . . . I can't save as many lives as I've seen pass. I just have to let it happen. You know what's worse than the horrific side of evil? The passive side. The side that lets bad things happen."

Bucky broke his silence then. "You don't have a choice, though."

My attention cut back to him in a mere moment, and we made steady eye contact. "Neither did you." I sat up then, and reached out and squeezed his flesh shoulder. "But you do now." I got to my feet and headed back over to Steve, linking our hands back together before returning my focus to Bucky. "And you're not going to get a chance to experience that if you just sit in this room forever."

When Steve realized I was done with what I had to say, he tore his soft, sympathetic gaze from me and allowed it to focus on Bucky. "You can come out whenever you're ready, Buck. We'll be here."

Then we left the room.

Steve was quiet at first, and I was as well. He broke the silence, but I didn't mind it. "I didn't know you felt that way," he said, tugging me to a gentle stop and cupping my face with one hand.

I gave him a gentle smile, reaching up and covering his hand with my own. "You do now."