Drive. ~James Buchanan Barnes

Chapter 16

"C'mon Bucky, there has to be something." I pester, "You can't expect me to believe that there wasn't anything good about the 40's."

He rolls his eyes, propping his head against his elbow, "The bars were good."

"You've already told me about the bars." I scoff.

It's been two days since the Hydra incident, and we've made good ground. We've already ferried across the Mississippi River, and tomorrow we cross into Louisiana.

Now we're sitting at a concrete picnic table at a rest stop. If you saw us you might think we were just two people on a road trip, resting on a sunny Saturday afternoon.

Sometimes that's how it feels.

"Well, in the forties there was a war going on, the food was terrible, and I kept having to rescue Steve from alleyways." He retorted, "What's good about that?"

I grin, "What about the music?"

He thought about it for a moment, gradually smiling with me, "I guess the music was alright."

"The fashion?"

"Hot and itchy."

We laugh together, and I take a swig of my water.

I glance around the empty area. It's nicer than many of the others we've visited, and there is an open field for picnics. There's even a little creek running along the edge, and the flowers are blooming.

It's hard to believe it's been a month.

"So you were thinking Spain?" I ask distractedly.

When he doesn't answer, I look back at him.

His head is in his hands.

I lean forward, gently removing them from his face, "Focus, Buck. Remember?"

He nods in response, taking a deep breath.

"Tell me what you see." I say softly.

He looks around the area, "Trees, and a creek. There are flowers over there," he points in their direction, "And the parking lot is that way."

"What do you hear?"

He's silent for a moment, and we both listen.

"Bees. And a couple of birds, and the highway." He answers finally, his muscles relaxing.

"What do you smell?" I coax.

This has become routine for us when this happens. It was difficult to get him to answer the first time, but it helps.

"Grill smoke, and sweetness from the flowers."

I inhale, "I smell that too. I'm getting a little bit of gasoline too. Probably from the highway."

He nods in agreement, waiting for the last question.

"What do you feel?"

"The stone of the bench, there's an acorn under my shoe, the breeze. And your hand on my arm." He smiles slightly at that, and I give it a little squeeze of comfort.

"Okay?"

"Yeah." He replies as he gets out the notebook. "That was one of my first missions." He states simply.

I nod in understanding. Some things are better left unsaid.

I watch the movement of his pen as he writes, waiting for it to stop before I ask my question again.

"Spain?"

"Maybe Barcelona.  Same situation as Atlanta, populated, but it isn't overly populated.  Maybe even one of the outlying villages." He explains.

I hum in agreement, "And Spain is pretty distracted right now.  There are rumors that Catalonia is going to try and succeed."

"Which means that a criminal who was last seen in America is going to be the least of their concern." He finishes.

"We're going to need passports," he adds after a minute.

"If you can find them, I can make them work." I say.

"How are you going to do that?" He asks with a tilt of his head.

I shrug, "Something I've only done a couple of times before.  It's how I hid from the police for so long."

I pull my hood up so that only Bucky can see my face, "Like I said before, matter is pretty much everything you see.  We're made of it.  I can manipulate it,"

I concentrate on my face, changing the shape of my lips, of my nose, of my eyes and their color. 

Bucky watches in fascination as I change before him, and he shakes his head when it's complete.

"You're gonna change the way I look?" He asks nervously.

I smile, "Only until we get to where we're going.  I can't actually do this forever.  It takes energy and focus,"

I let my face change back to normal, "Which means it's going to be a long flight."

"You're going to need to get some practice in. I hate to ask so much of you." He mutters, "You wouldn't be a part of this if it weren't for me."

"I know. But it hasn't been so bad." I muse, "I've needed to face up to what I am for a long time. It's time to stop fighting it. I just can't let myself slip."

He nods thoughtfully, "I'm thinking maybe we should find someplace for you to practice.  Away from people."

"From cameras." I add.

"Definitely away from cameras." He agrees.

"It would give you time to scare up some passports," I say, "I can handle the money situation."

He chuckles, "Isn't that illegal?"

I scoff, giving him an eye roll. "I really don't think we should be worrying about that, Buck."

I take another drink, "We do have one problem though."

"Just one?" He mumbles, "What is it?"

"I don't speak Spanish."