oh captain! my captain! | barnes

fallen

9:07 am
Harlem

Bucky stood in front of the small building with ivy climbing up the sides; it sat on the beach of Harlem. Waves crashed behind him as he took in a rugged breath. He knew the near, inevitable end was.

He rang the doorbell and the house chimed.

The door opened and a girl with crazy curly hair stood in front of him. He tried to smile but her face dropped.

"You're the Winter-"

"My name's Bucky Barnes, I'm an Avenger and a friend of Audrey. I was wondering, if she was home, if I'd be able to talk with her?"

The woman waited a moment and concluded her thought, she swiftly moved to close the door. Bucky's metal hand stopped it mid-close.

"Please," he insisted.

The girl stopped.

"Fine, but it's not because I'm scared of you," she crossed her arms stubbornly. "My name's Ray."

"Nice to meet you, Ray," he stood in the doorway. "As I said, I'm Bucky."

"This way," she guided him up the stairs and into the main apartment. Bucky took it in: yellow cabinets, plants in colorful pots, a cat swiveled between his legs and purred.

He moved away from it and the animal looked up with big eyes.

"Where's Audrey?" he cut to the point.

Another woman, who wasn't Audrey, stepped out of a door and into sight. She, too, froze before acting.

"Get out," she demanded. "Now."

"It's okay," Ray urged her.

"No, it's not. An enemy of Audrey's is an enemy of ours. Leave," she commanded. Bucky didn't move. Audrey came out of another door and took in the situation.

"Bucky," she interrupted everyone.

"Hey Ace, I need to talk with you," he persisted.

"Why? What about?"

"It's personal," he glanced at the two almost-strangers in the room. "It'll be quick."

"Fine."

Bucky smiled sadly and they took to a pair of stairs that led to the roof. The intercom was buzzing with orders to get in place and be ready to infiltrate.

"Stand down," Bucky commanded. "Give me a minute, let me talk to her."

He caught up with Audrey and they got to the roof. The sky was crystal blue and the sun warmed his back. She looked out over her city.

She was so beautiful, and he loved her for it. But he knew she wasn't who she used to be, and it would only get worse from here. She turned to face him again and he held a paper. It was crumpled and creased from many years of folding and re-folding. Its ink bled through in spots, and coffee stains patterned themselves in others.

He unfolded it and glanced at her. He read:

"My Dearest Bucky,