RESURRECTION OVERTURE ▹ barnes-romanoff

fifteen.

If winter has the courage to turn into spring, who says I can't bloom just the same?

A redhead sits among the tall golden grass, almost nearly disappearing among the long stalks. The grass feels cold and dry against her pale skin and a white fog stays low to the earth across from her, rolling over the hills like it's controlled by some force of nature. The birds chirp quietly in the acacia trees and the animals around make their sounds of exhaustion. The world is going to sleep and it's a strange thing to be a part of; it's so still and so gentle for the girl who was raised in chaos and destruction.

The sky is full of a nearly unearthly sunset, one that looks to be painted by the hand of God himself. The sun is so much like an orange light bulb, slowly dimming and dimming as it lowers slowly down into the sky. The redhead never knew that a sky could ever be full of so many colors at once with purples, pinks, oranges, yellows, blues, and so many shades of red. It's probably the most beautiful sky she's ever seen in her life and God knows she needed a beautiful sky tonight.

A man with one arm slowly steps through the tall grass, having spotted the fifteen year old amidst the golden grass. He keeps his dark head slightly ducked as he walks towards her, taking in the sound of this moment with only his feet crunching in the grass to fill the silence. He knows he doesn't have much more time to take in moments like these. When he does reach her side, he gently places his right flesh arm upon her scrawny shoulder to warn her of his presence. Two pairs of pale blue eyes meet each other's and the redhead gives him a small and listless wave.

"Steve said he saw you come out here." Bucky slowly eases down next to her, resting his arm across his kneecaps.

Svetlana stares at the side of his face for a long moment before she slowly nods and looks back out at the darkening scenery.

"I had the dream last night."

Bucky waits for her to continue, letting her lead the conversation as he always does.

"The Superior was there. I was sitting in the machine, the metal sides were on either side of my face."

Bucky grits his teeth, but he doesn't take his eyes off of her.

"I could feel the electricity coming closer and I could feel the metal against my skin... It was so real. I saw the Academy and the Madame too. And the book and the-the dancing; there was something so strange about the dancing..." Svetlana swallows thickly and shakes her head, whispering, "The dream; it felt so familiar yet..." She refuses to look at him, she truly just can't look at him, "This time, the only difference was that you weren't there."

Pain contorts Bucky's expression and he shakes his head slightly, feeling a horrible pang in his chest. He knows that he'll never wish for the days when he could not feel. He fought so hard to ever feel and he knows that it won't ever feel possible if he doesn't go through with this. But, still, it is moments such as these that he nearly does wish he couldn't feel anything at all.

Because it hurts.

God, it just hurts so much.

"My mind only keeps thinking about all of the-the," she irritatedly squeezes her eyes shut as she can't remember the English word, "uzhasnyy things that might happen and you may not be there." ...terrible...

Svetlana's bottom lip is still so terribly raw from where she has chewed on it relentlessly in the past few days. It even stings from the open wound she has left in it, but she can't seem to break the habit now. Her arm sits in her lap; it being wrapped thickly and tightly now that she broke her wrist after landing on it when she fell down the tower. Her ribs needed to be bandaged because she also managed to break a few of those as well, but there isn't much one can do for broken ribs. Svetlana certainly knows that from experience.