Work Text
Part One: Office of Christina Raynor, M.D, Pys.D, Brooklyn, New York
About 10:40am on a Wedesday morning in March "How are you sleeping these days, Mr Barnes?" asked Dr Raynor. Bucky Barnes, slightly taken aback by the unexpected question halfway through his therapy session considered lying.Then reconsidered when he yawned involuntarily for the tenth or eleventh time."Same as usual?" He answered..."Not much".The pyschiatrist raised a single eyebrow, an ability Bucky both envied and fouund incredibly annoying at the same time before replying:"Well, that's obvious" and, taking advantage of the lack of biting remark or reply on the part of her client, added "How to you define "not much". How many hours on average"Bucky sighed just loudly enough to be heard, before responding "I dunno, two or three most nights? Why is this even important?"Dr Raynor gave him her most condascending stare: "Its important, James, because sleep is vital to your mental health and overall wellbeing. Not getting enough of it can cause serious health problems and, in case you weren't aware, your mental health is considered a matter of national security". "I don't think I've slept properly since the war" retorted Bucky "and I mean the Second World War, not the war with Thanos. Why is this only an issue now"?"You don't think?" Raynor replied "James...."Yeah, I don't know because my memories of everything other than missions for HYDRA are like chop suey, OK? That's what you wanna hear!?" He said, sounding angrier than he intended."Its little bits and scrambled pieces because even though the Wakandans helped me a lot they couldn't just put the mess of my brain back together and press restart"."No need to shout, James" replied the Doctor, in a little softer of a tone than usual. "I will take note of your ongoing memory issues though". Bucky half opened his mouth for a smart or sarcastic comeback. The verbal sparring had become typical of his therapy sessions, especially when he wanted nothing more than to bolt ouf the door and never come back. Instead he just sounded a bit whiny when he said"Great, so now they think I'm using amnesia as an excuse...."Raynor looked up: "Well no, if your medical records and Princess Shuri's files are anything to go by, your memory problems are pretty well documented and no health professional worthy of the name thinks they're gonna go away overnight, but you've taken us way off track as per usual."Let's get back to the subject at hand, namely your chronic sleep deprivation and its possible impact.." "I am not sleep deprived" Bucky cut her off. "No listen". He put his hand up. "I do sleep, just not much. Those whatever the hell records they are should tell you because of the serum I probably don't need that much sleep anyway. Steve said he didn't either""And second of all" Bucky continued "I know sleep deprivation, OK? HYDRA didn't allow me to sleep. EVER. For decades, all I remember is their rule. If I ever fell asleep, I got punished. Instead they just shoved me back in the freezer like a chicken or something so my brain couldn't heal. Which is *nothing* like sleep and more like living death. No brain activity. No breathing, not even a hearbeat."I had to literally teach myself it was OK to sleep again when I escaped. It took me weeks, laying awake all night for fear of being electrocuted or beaten. Watchng for them to come find me - and then when I did finally start sleeping again, the nightmares began...""Oh yes" Raynor finally interjected. "The nightmares you insist you're not having. Which are totally not the reason you sleep only a couple of hours a night. Which is absolutely sleep deprivation by the way""Look" she continued in a slightly less sarcastic tone "you're irritable, short tempered, struggling to concentrate and won't stop yawning. All classic signs of sleep deprivation. Well, except the short-tempered thing. That's just you" she noted with a smile. "and its only gonna get worse if we don't address this"."You might not realize it, James but I am actually looking out for your welfare, and I do not want to hear that you've been run over by a train or something because you passed out from exhaustion on the tracks""That's not gonna happen" Bucky said. "Look, I do appreciate your concern, but I can go..""Don't give me the I can go for weeks without this and that James. You're enhanced. Not immortal"Bucky smiled "Well, some might disagree on that last part after the Snap" on seeing Raynor's unimpressed face and slight snort he added "I'm kidding. It was a joke".He continued "Look, I don't know what you want me to do about the sleep thiing, and you know I don't react well to being medicated... so I'm really not sure how to deal with the whole thing unless I take a whole damn bottle of sleeping pills and vodka each night"Raynor gave him her hardest of hard stares: "I know you're pretty much immune to the effects of most drugs and drink because of your serum but it is still very concerning that you think alcohol and the kind of overdose which would kill an ordinary person are the way to deal with *anything*. And that's not even getting on to the smoking. Yes, I know you still smoke James, no matter how much you try to hide it"Bucky looked down, turning red. His face and demeanour like a boy who had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.Raynor got up and walked over to a table in the corner, leaving her chastened patient in the corner in awkward silence for half a minute. It probably wasn't professonal, but she actually enjoyed making him feel like a naughty schoolboy sent to the Principal's Office. Humilation could be an effective treatment. Sometimes.She returned with a flyer."I think I have something which might be helpful with the whole sleeping issue. Only you can help yourself with the drinking and smoking too much" she said, holding up the printed flyer."Cornell University are running a - test program right now" she was trying hard to avoid using the word "experiment".Almost everyone knew of what HYDRA did to James in an Austrian Work Camp in 1943. The word "experiment" probably still conjured up images of the barbaric, inhuman acts perpetrated on him, and many other helpless Prisoners of War."Its mostly for students to compile data and learn about trends, but it has to do with sleep".Bucky looked up, and staring dubiously at the piece of paper she had in her han; "How is that meant to help? Being poked and prodded by some Med students? No thankyou". Raynor counted "There will be no poking or prodding involved. No instruments, at least not ones you cann see. Sleep--- tests are common now. All you literally have to do is spend the night in a nice, comfy room. Sleep like you normally would. Do everything like you normally would.The only difference from your normal routine is that someone is watching you from outside and monitoring things like heart rate blood pressure, and brain activity. All that can be all done remotely now. Not someone in the room"Bucky still looked dubious: "How is someone watching me sleep: or not sleep, supposed to help with anything? Just sounds nosy"Raynor replied: "Its actually a great way of finding out if there is something neurological or something is throwing your body out of balance which disrupts normal sleep patterns. You and I don't notice such things, but when a health professional can actually *see* what's happening, in real time on a monitor then any problems can be found. And treated"Bucky was still a little unconvinced but was gradually starting to come around: "Yeah, well there's nothing "normal" about me, and we both know my brain is so f-- messed up it probably barely works anymore"The doctor loaded a last round into her proverbial barrel: "Well, I can't force you, but I really think this might be worth a try. Also, there will be free food. You can have basically anything you want the whole time they're there. A lot of people use it like a free overnight hotel"Bucky seemed to brighten a but: "You had me at the "free food". This is shameless entrapment, you know that don't you?"Raynor, for maybe the first time that day, actually seemed pleased. Of course she did. She had gotten her way;"So can I take that as a yes? Can I put your name down for say, next Friday"Bucky remembered the one problem: "How the hell am I going to get to Cornell? Its not exactly walking distance""That's no problem. I can arrange transport all the way there, for them to drop you home too. Free of charge, naturally" The Doctor told him.Bucky almost rolled his eyes "You had all this planned out in advance, didn't you?""Actually no" said the Doctor "I mean I've been aware of the program for about a week and I have offered it to a couple of my other clients with sleep problems. I just anticipated if you did agree, transport would be an issue. So can you let me know if I can put your name down? I need a clear yes or no? By the end of this session"With one final sigh, Bucky gave in "I can't believe I let you talk me into this, but yes. Do you want me to sign something?""Just a consent form, but that can wait for our next session as they'll need to get it all printed off and finalised" said the Doctor, keeping the truimph out of her voice."I am really, really pleased you agreed to this James, I think its going to be very beneficial""Yeah. Like I never heard that one before...." Bucky muttered to himself.
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Raynor sent a taxi to collect Bucky the following Friday evening. She’s told him to travel light, as though he wasn’t used to owning nothing and always preparing to flee at a moment’s notice. He simply stuffed some niftwear and clean shirt and underwear into an old rucksack before throwing in a toothbrush.He kept the rucksack with him instead of throwing it into the trunk of the taxi when invited to do so.The driver engaged in small talk all the way to Cornell, but Bucky didn’t feel like talking. He wasn’t rude, just kept silent and stared out of the window until the driver took the hint.There were actually 4 other people taking part in the sleep experiment. Raynor, of course, hadn’t mentioned that and when he met the others, sitting in a dingy lounge, Bucky almost ducked out and called his own taxi home.It wasn’t he privacy thing that bothered Bucky as much as the prospect of having to sleep in a room with total strangers. That freaked the heck out of him. Showing his Vibranium arm to the world.He might as well wear a sign around his neck reading “Hello, I’m the Winter Soldier!”.Then there was very distinct possibility that he might have another nightmare and in fear and confusion, lash out at anyone or anything near him. Accidentally strangling someone in his sleep would not be a good look- or do his efforts to make his pardon stick any favours.However, it turned out everyone was going to have separate rooms, so it *might* be OK.A couple of guys, a young black girl who was so absorbed in her phone she barely seemed to notice anything, and an older lady reading a magazine. Most of them ignored each other, except the old lady who smiled at Bucky and budged up a beside her when he asked if he could sit down on the couch beside her.“It’s so rare to find a young person with good manners these days!” she remarked, as he smiled back.If only you knew. Thought Bucky… that I’m probably twice your age!He looked at his watch and sighed. It was only just after 7pm. Several more hours of sitting here, pretending to be normal, before he could just get this over with. He looked over the magazines. Nothing remotely interesting. Nevertheless, he picked up something about technology or computing or something and pretended to read it for a while.Someone came in a while later to ask what all of them wanted for dinner, and a consensus was reached for pizza. Pizza was good. Bucky didn’t mind pizza, so he asked for double cheese.He even shared his dipping sauce with the old lady and gave her the salad someone ordered with the pizza in lip service to healthy eating.She was sweet: her name was Susan, and she was a retired nurse.“Its funny, they let us eat junk food at a respected medical establishment like this!” she joked “I am shocked they don’t have us all on salad and protein shakes!”.“I guess they just wanna keep us sweet” replied Bucky. “Do you know what time we have to go to bed like good kids?”.“9pm in the rooms” she told him. “Lights out by 11:30. Though her phone battery will probably run out long before then!” Susan remarked, gazing with disapproval at the girl, still immersed in her phone between bites of her pizza.Just before 9, each of them was called by different people. Bucky was third and was taken into a small room where Doctor Raynor and some stumpy guy in lab coat were waiting. He reminded Bucky a little too much of Zola for his comfort.“Hello James, I am so glad you made it!” she greeted him in her cheeriest tone. “Just got a little prep, then you go to your room, and we leave you to your own devices!”Bucky winced slightly at the word “prep”. 10 years ago, that meant another mind-wipe before a fresh round of brainwashing with the trigger words. By the time HYDRA “prep” was done, he was so out if it, numb with pain and confused they could have told him he was a pink hippo on board the Enterprise and he would have believed it.Bucky did, however, take a little wicked delight in the lab coat guy’s visible shock when he removed his shirt to reveal his metal arm and surgery scars in all their glory. He also revealed his dog tags Shoot, he forgot about them.Raynor saw them, and looked quizzical. Bucky took them off and stuffed them into his jeans pocket, glaring at her defiantly.They fitted some kind of sticky, circular pads onto chest and arm, and then gave him a device which looked like headphones, saying he had to wear it when he went to bed.“I er, don’t like electrical stuff near my head” said Bucky “so can we lose this?”.After a little protestation, and some wrangling, Raynor managed to reach a compromise whereby he would wear a sort of fabric headband. At least it looked like fabric outside, bit was stuff and rigid underneath. It would muss his hair and make him look, ridiculous, but at least it didn’t conjure up images of the Memory Supressing Machine.“Good night and sleep well, James” Raynor said, as they led him down a corridor to his room. She wasn’t trying to be patronizing but came over as such.“I’m not a five-year-old scared of the dark” he muttered. There were other terrors then the night.His room was smallish but contained a nice bed, a nightstand, and even had a little en-suite wet room. There was a small TV screen built into one wall. At the top of the adjacent wall, near the ceiling was a long, glass panel, Bucky noted.It looked like a window, but it wasn’t. He suspected it was a two-way mirror for the doctors to keep an eye on what was going on in the rooms.“Wow, they meant that watch you sleep thing literally” he thought.As he explored his surroundings, and tested the bed, he noticed there were two paperback books tucked in the Nightstand. The Grapes of Wrath by John Steinbeck and a book about World War Two.Bucky chuckled slightly. Way to remind him of the saddest and hardest times of his life: no, they weren’t. He checked himself. HYDRA’s captivity was the worst part of his life, The Great Depression and the War were contenders for close second though.He set aside The Grapes of Wrath. He had a vague recollection of that novel or something like it before the war, when the scars of the Depression had still been fresh. He hadn't wanted to read it then, and sure didn't want to now.He checked out the World War Two book though. “Just to see what they got wrong...” he thought, checking the contents page.He must’ve read for longer than he thought, because just as he was reading and cross-referencing with the bibliography the section about The Italian Front, an unseen microphone announced it was nearly time for lights out.Putting the thick book aside, he got changed into the tracksuit bottoms and tank top he’d bought with him, and brushed his teeth. The clothes were probably a bit much for March, but Bucky hated feeling cold. He couldn’t remember why. He just hated even the faintest chill. He’d rather be too warm for the time of year.Returning to the room, he took two of the pillows from the bed, and arranged them on the floor a few feet away. Then took the coverlet and placed it next to them. Let Raynor and her medical friends see he slept on the floor. Though it might more uncomfortable than usual with the stupid headband.So, he took the last pillow and used it as a bolster for the others before pulling the coverlet over him and rearranging the pillows under his head and neck a few times.He tried to get back to reading and managed maybe a few minutes before the lights went off.Afterwards, just looked in boredom at the screen which seemed to be set on some show about whales. It was probably supposed to be relaxing to watch them swim or something. He just found it distracting as he hunkered down under the coverlet and rolled over to face the wall. Bucky tried to remain conscious as long as possible in the freezing cell. His arms, both the metal and the flesh one was suspended above his head, his whole body stretched so that he could just barely keep the edge of his feet on the ground to prevent himself from literally being hanged.He was completely naked. He was past freezing. For a long time he’d shivered, but even that had stopped eventually. Now he was just numb with the biting cold.This wasn’t like the iron coffin they put him in, where within seconds you lost consciousness. It probably wasn’t as cold as the living casket designed to preserve his body in perfect condition. It was the Siberian Winter, seeping into the tiny, empty cell.Here, he didn’t pass out. If he did- he didn’t know what would happen to him. This was torture. Stress positions, they’d called it back in the army. How long ago had that been? So long it seemed like a dream. Like it happened to someone else.“You will stay like this until you are ready to comply” they said.He'd spat in Zola's face. Called him - some profanity he didn't even remember now. Earned himself a nasty beating- and then being hung from the ceiling like a slaughtered pig. The bruises and cuts were probably healed now. He healed quickly- but they left him here.How long had it been. Days? Weeks? In the darkness and the cold. Alone. Without sense of time.He'd been in this facility much longer. He knew that because of what the gaurds said when they thought he was out cold after beatings or torture. The War was long since over. Stalin was dead. At first, Bucky was confused.Weren’t the Russians on the same side as the Americans and the Brits anyway? They said the war was over, why couldn’t they just send him home?Then Zola came. Gave him his new arm. He'd woken up on the operating table. Heard the bonesaw. Felt the pain.Zola the "little Doctor" had spent years working on his pet project. That it was useless. A waste of money and resourcesHe was too resistant. Beatings, mock drowning, experimentation, pumping him full of drugs. None of it worked. It was a bad idea to use an American. They were too stubborn. Why couldn't Little Doctor find another super-soldier. Recreate the serum?Zola though was insistent. He came to see Bucky often. He said Steve was dead. That he worked for Howard Stark, now. That HYDRA were the good guys now, and they ran everything.He called Bucky the "fist of HYDRA". Wanted him to destroy all those who stood in their way. That didn't sound like something the "good guys" would do.
“Its not as if you haven’t killed before, Sargeant Barnes. You are a sniper. You are *very* good at killing. You like killing. You are as the Americans say, trigger happy”
That had been different. Shooting Nazi bastards to protect his men. Blowing up HYDRA bases because those evil assholes deserved it. They were his enemies. They were trying to kill him.They were, some said, rounding up and murdering his mother’s people. They killed innocent civilians, women and children.
“You have killed enough of our people Sargeant Barnes. I helped you. I saved your life. Now you can repay the favour. Why do you keep resisting? I am trying to help you once again”
He’d told Zola and his minions to go to hell enough times. Spewed every filthy word he’d ever learned in English and the few he’d picked up in German and Russian at Zola and the guards.If the war was indeed over, what Zola was asking him to do was straight-up murder. Even after everything, his many faults and flaws and mistakes, Bucky *would not* do it.
Light.
A dim, dreary greyish light came into the cell. Someone loosened the mechanism that held him up. Lowering him a little. The hand restrains snapped off and his legs gave way beneath him, and he toppled to the floor.It was the same guard as last time. Bucky saw him as he struggled to get up.Last time. When he’d been naked and vulnerable. Unable to stop him.He wasn’t some innocent, naïve virgin like Steve. He’d had sex enough times. With a girlfriend he thought was serious, back in Brooklyn. Then a couple of British girls after deployment. Enough that he knew exactly what the guy did, even if he didn't see it. But to do that to a man. To a helpess person who didn't want it just to torment them? He’d would have turned then. Done anything to make it stop. He had. Cried, pleaded, promised to do whatever they asked. They guard just laughed. Left him there. Hanging. Weeping and gasping for breath.He’d started shaking again. Not from the cold. The guard smirked and circled as Bucky still struggled to stand.“How is our little princess? Is she cold? Is she going to cry again? Oh, poor Princess! Perhaps we need to hug her close to dry her tears!?”- he put out a hand and rubbed Bucky’s cheek in mock tenderness.His mistake. Bucky headbutted him.Growling, staggering the guard spluttered. “You will pay for that, you prick! Little Doctor wants you undamaged now, but you will suffer later!”“Wonder what our Nazi friend would do if he knew you're a little fag” Bucky spat out. It seemed to work- he saw the horror in the guy’s eyes. He'd think twice about touching him again.Another two guards entered, these ones with guns. They looked with surprise at their comrade, who sported a bloodied nose.“He slipped” lied Bucky, “hit his head on the wall.” The guard didn’t argue as Bucky was escorted out to a tiny room. Allowed to dress. His limbs had turned blue from so long the cold- and he was still shaking. It took him forever to put some course woollen pants.He could barely stand for the numbness. Then they took him *there*. The room they used for experiments.Bucky couldn’t stop shivering. This time, in the centre of the room, there was something that looked like an electric chair.They intended to kill him at last then. Oh, it would be painful, it would take a long time, probably but at least it would be over. Eventually.Bucky found himself praying for maybe the first time ever: “Oh God, just let them kill me! I know I’m probably not the type of guy you listen to, but please can you do this one thing for me just this one time?” As they strapped him down, Zola came in and stood in front of the chair.
“I am sorry Sargeant Barnes, but everything else so far has not worked. You are so un-cooperative that we must try this. It will, I fear hurt. But I think it will do you good in the end”.
“You could just stop telling me to kill for you, you little Nazi fucker!”Zola frowned. “I wish you would mind your language Sargeant. Did you kiss your mother with that mouth?” then as he turned, he said “I think you will change your mind soon- about what we need you to do”“You’d like my mom if you met her!” yelled Bucky after his retreating form “She was Jewish!”.He wanted to make Zola angry. So angry he’d kill him.Paddles came down from above the chair, they fizzed and cracked with electricity. They rested on his temples and pressed down.The pain began. Horrific pain. Excruciating.Bucky screamed.
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“Why is he sleeping on the floor?” asked one of the Doctors, astonished. They watched each of the test subjects prepare for bed.Dr Raynor came over. Barnes was her patient after all, he’d come at her recommendation. She saw how he’d taken the pillows and coverlet off the bed and arranged them neatly on the floor next to it, before lying down.“He was in the military” she explained. “Some of our guys do that. Its a hangover from the army”“Oh, that makes sense. Sort of. But what’s the deal with his arm?”“Prosthetic” she said “Also a hangover from his time in the armed forces”“Great” the Doctor mumbled “We’ve got an amputee vet who can’t sleep in a bed. Bet he’s got PTSD as well ...you really pick 'em don’t you Raynor?”“None of those are bad things. Nor his own fault, I hasten to add. You could show some more understanding for a man who risked his life for this country”. She’d never felt the need to defend Barnes before. But now it happened. First time for everything.“Hey, I didn’t mean any offense, OK? I get it, war hero”The Doctors continued watching their monitors and patients for a while. Most of them fell asleep quickly after lights out. Except Susan, the retired nurse, and the girl who was using her phone in bed until the battery finally went flat. Which resulted in a cheer.Barnes dropped off almost straight away, if his heart rate and lack of movement was anything to go by. Super-soldiers apparently had the same resting heart rate as normal humans, even a little slower. For about an hour or so, everything was normal.Until his brain monitor showed he’d entered REM sleep. “Woah….” said a doctor. “We might have a problem with your war hero, Raynor!”Barnes heart rate and blood pressure had begun to spike. An indicator of extreme stress or anxiety. He was asleep, so there could only be one explanation.He was having a nightmare.“If this doesn’t stop, we might need to intervene,” said the Doctor. “I know that’s out of the ordinary, but this is making ME worried! We can’t have a patient keel over of a heart attack”“Only if absolutely necessary” replied Raynor. “But I will keep an eye on him. Is there any way I can hear what’s happening in there?”“Yup” replied the same Doctor “push that button there, and it switches on the microphone in the room. Its there in case the patients need anything, usually” he added, looking a little awkward.Raynor heard nothing at first. Then…. heavy breathing. Barnes rolled over in his sleep, his metal arm coming out and smacking the floor quite hard. The heavy breathing continued; his pulse still too rapid.She’d have to do something if he didn’t stop soon.Barnes mumbled something. She couldn’t make out the words. “Nazi” and --- and something about his mom?Then there was sound like a- whimper? Followed by something that sounded like a scream. Yes, it was a scream.Barnes suddenly sat bolt upright. Still whimpering and hyperventilating, making jerky movements as he looked around the room.“James, are you OK”? Dr Raynor leaned down to speak through the microphone.Barnes said nothing. Just looked in the direction of the disembodied voice. He looked pained. Then confused. He was still panting but it was starting to slow down.Finally, he put up a hand to wipe his face. Covered in sweat probably.“James, are you OK? Please speak to me?” Raynor asked again.Now he looked properly up in the direction of the window. “What does it look like?” he said, angrily “Congratulations, you witnessed one of my nightmares. Happy now?”He pulled the headband off and threw it on the ground.“…and I am not wearing that goddamn thing anymore? OK? I don’t know what it is, I don’t know what it does, but it brings back some real bad memories and I don’t need that right now!”.The other Doctor was behind her now “He can’t take off the brain moni …” he began to protest.Raynor swung around and snapped at him “This man has been TORTURED Carpenter! And I don’t mean that as an exaggeration. Literal. Actual torture- and if that thing reminds him of his torture, I don’t want him wearing it either!”“But….” He began to protestRaynor said in a calmer tone. “Look, he’s clearly had some kind of nightmare, and I am willing to bet that nightmare was something to do with his torture. Its not such a stretch to assume that was triggered by him wearing the headband”She continued: “You were worried about his vitals spiking yourself- so do you *really* want to force him to do something which is going to potentially make that worse next time?” “Ok, Ok I get the picture” sighed Dr Carpenter. “But that means we’re gonna have to go by sight and sounds now, with only vitals to tell us if anything is wrong. No way of measuring brain activity”“That’s fine by me!” Raynor replied.She then spoke into the microphone again: “It’s OK James you don’t have to wear it”.Barnes was sitting with his knees tucked up near his chest now, his arms wrapped around them.
Classic defensive/comforting posture.
“Did you want to tell me about your dream at all?”“No!” he snapped. Then said with a sigh, “Not with all those others listening. Maybe in our next session? When its just us?”Raynor was touched in that moment. Was he starting to trust her?“OK, I won’t push you, whenever you’re ready… but just so you know you don’t always remember dreams days after they happened”.“I will remember” he said.“OK, don’t worry about it now. Why don’t you try and relax and maybe go back to sleep?” she said in a quiet, calming tone.“I don’t think that’s a very good idea” Barnes replied “but I guess it won’t do any harm to lie down at least. Can’t pace about all night in here and you haven’t got any coffee. Or anything stronger…”He got up though, instead of laying straight back down and was headed to the bathroom.“What are you doing?” asked Raynor.“Do you mind? It’s called answering the call of nature. I would have a drink of water too, but I don’t wanna use that nasty plastic cup you have for mouthwash in there. Gross”Dr Raynor smiled “I’ll have someone bring you a bottle of water, OK?”“Thanks, Doc” he replied before closing the bathroom door.
Spring, 1940 - Or an similar date. This is, after all, a dream, and how does one date a dream?
Bucky stood talking to a young lady in a large, well-lit ballroom. He’d had to put in God only knew how much overtime at work to afford to rent out the place for the night.But it was worth it, for Becca’s dream.His younger sister had always wanted a coming-of-age party. Just like the princesses and Southern Belles in the old days from in the novels she liked to read as a kid. With dancing and gorgeous dresses.Now they were here. Bucky, Steve, Becca and Kit and little baby –No. Not Vicky.He still thought she was there sometimes, but she was gone. An infection. Two years ago. They could have treated it too, given her Penicillin. Of course, the drugs would have been expensive. But he would have got the money. Somehow.But it wouldn’t have done any good, because everything had been so quick, they barely even knew she was sick. She’d complained about a headache, feeling sick and dizzy, gone to bed. The next day, she wouldn’t wake up.By the evening, she was gone.They said it had got into her blood, made her brain swell.They Barnes siblings had made it through those horrible years of the Depression, together. Just when they’d started to come to terms with their father’s death. Things were just starting to look up, and when he thought they might all come out the other side - little Vi was snatched away. She was only a kid, too. 15. It was so unfair. So horribly, horrifically unjust.Bucky shook off the morbid thoughts.It was Becca’s special day. Night even. And long delayed. So long in fact, she’d had to wait until she was nearly twenty-one not eighteen as per tradition. Or so she said.She’s waited so long, and he’d spent a lot of dough. Which was why he was determined to make sure everyone had fun. Especially Becca- even if he had been temporarily distracted by a pretty face.He felt a tap on his shoulder and turned.Kit stood there, resplendent in a light blue sequined gown. His second sister gazed up at him with concern in her blue eyes. Katherine was her real name, but she hated it almost as much as he hated being called James.“Kit, why aren’t you dancing?” said Bucky cheerily. “I know for a fact Steve would love a dance”His little sister, always the beauty of the family, replied “I’ve danced like a million times already. But I’m worried about Becca. She’s still in her seat, stooped over, looking real sad. I don’t think anyone has danced with her, or talked to her much, all night”Bucky glanced over at his other sister and saw Kit was right.“Sure I saw her on the floor earlier. If some guy hurt her feelings I am gonna find him and personally knock his teeth out!”Kit tried her best at a disapproving glare “Can you and Steve please try to stay out of trouble? Just for this one night? No fighting. Just go speak to her. Find out what’s wrong”Bucky, clad in a very fancy tuxedo suit which he had rented for the night like his sister’s dresses, went over to Becca. Slightly giddy. He might be ever so slightly, a teeny-weeny bit drunkOK, He was very drunk.Becca looked like she’d been crying but perked up when she saw him.“How’s the little star of the show?” said Bucky “Why are you sitting here all alone at your own party. I won’t have it Becs, you are under strict orders to have fun!”Rebecca- Becca, sniffed and met him in the eye“I know Bucky but… I’ve looked forward to this for so long, dreamed about it, but how we’re here with a band, and music, and dancing and cake - with all that’s going on…it seems…. Just so wrong somehow. Wasteful and selfish”Bucky sighed. “We can’t solve all the problems in the word, Becca, and certainly not by fretting, or hiding ourselves away and moping. And there’s no harm in just… for one night forgetting about it. Enjoying life”He added “Besides of which, that war, those problems. They’re halfway across the world. Even if it does come here, we’ll be ready- but its not here yet and acting different isn’t gonna make things better”Becca replied: “I guess you’re right". Then added with a smile "Or you’re just real persuasive” “Do you know what Gio says?” asked Bucky, referring to the older, Italian migrant who ran a bakery two blocks away from them.Becca shook her head.“He says “the best way spit in Hitler’s face is to live, be young, and be free”Becca looked sceptical “that sounds more like something Bucky Barnes would say than Mr. Giovanni Roberti”Bucky put on a look of mock offense: “I am not lying Becca. God’s own truth… Except I might have translated a little because what he said was peppered with Italian words which I do not understand. Or want to”Becca laughed, embarrassed. He meant rude words.Bucky explained: “I think what he means though is those Nazis over in Europe: they hate people being free, being able to live and to do as they please. Go where they want, be with who they want, dance and drink with who they want. Especially folks like Mart and Jo”. They were the African-American couple from across the street who were good friends of his sisters. And him. He'd made sure to invite them and spend time with because some people said white folk should not dance and drink and be friends with black folk. As far as Bucky was concerned, the people who said such things could go fuck themselves. “They wanna control everyone and make everyone as horrible and miserable as they are” finished Bucky, waving at Mart from across the room.He went on “and I think he meant to say, between all those Italian cuss words when I last spoke to him, that the best way to defy people like nastty little German and his kind is to do the things they don’t want us to do. Whilst we can do them. Live to the full” Becca smiled up at him again.“Well, I am afraid I can’t dance with anyone. Nobody has asked me in ages. And I don’t wanna dance with Steve- again” she quickly added “I mean- I love Steve, but he keeps stepping on my feet”Bucky did his best to put on an outraged tone: “Rebecca Barnes, that is no way to talk about your future husband!” Then he and Becca burst out laughing.Bucky, breathless said: “Don’t tell him about treading on your toes, or he’ll be so ashamed he’ll go hide away and we will not see him for months. I had to virtually drag him here by the ears as it was”Becca hiccupped with barely stifled laugher “…and don’t let him hear us laughing at him please! He’ll be mortified, and he’s not far away”“Yup” said Bucky “Well, I have the perfect solution to distract ourselves and make sure Steve never finds out”“What?” asked Becca.“Dance. C’mon, Becs, give your big brother a dance” replied Bucky, holding out his hand in formal invitation.Becca got up and took his hand. She, like her sister, was resplendent in a sequined gown, only this one was yellow, and longer, with a cinched in waist and flounces all over the place.As they stepped out into the middle of the room, people moved aside to accommodate them. Some smiled, and a couple began clapping and whooping. “It feels like cheating somehow, dancing with my brother” remarked Becca“Not on my end. I get a dance with the prettiest lady in the room” replied BuckyBecca said “You, James Buchanan Barnes are far too charming for your own good” as he put his arm around her waist, and they began to dance to the lively music.Bucky looked down into his sister’s face (he was taller both his sisters) and took in her features. Her brown hair put up into an elaborate style and fixed with diamante pins. Her ice-blue eyes, just like his own.“Maybe, sis” he said “maybe, but you can’t say you’re immune to them” as they continued to dance.He wanted to remember this night. The people he was with. Not just because it was Becca’s special day- but something else.He couldn’t put his finger on it. Was it foreboding? For all his bravado, and the encouragement he had given his sister, Bucky was scared.Scared that the evil out there might come here, to New York, and eat everything up like some horrible monster from one of Becca’s old storybooks. Soon.Scared of losing all this. Steve. His sisters, his little world.Maybe even himself.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Bucky woke again. Slower this time.A gradual awakening and awareness of where he was.Not in a ballroom, not dancing with his sister. In a room in Cornell University in 2024.Alone.“Becca?” he said quietly, as though saying her name could conjure her. Bring back the dream.Had it been a dream? O was it a memory. Maybe both.Bucky inhaled and exhaled sharply. He hardly remembered anything from before the war. He hadn’t even remembered he had a sister until- when?Sometime in Romania, a long while after everything in DC. His memories had come back slowly at first, like small drips of water from a tap, and then … like a flood becoming clearer.He’d had to start getting notebooks to write them down. Everything he remembered, even tiny things. Like his childhood toys, his favourite colour- even stuff he’d once learned in Math classes at school.We wanted a permanent record, something tangible- because the memories were precious. He could not bear to lose them again. Be robbed of them. In the end, there had been so much stuff crammed into notebooks, he’d had to keep them all in a rucksack which he stored under the floorboards for safety. For quick access just in case he had to run.He didn’t know when he’d first remembered Becca- no wait. It might have been when he’d heard someone or something with the name. It had triggered something. Then everything came back. Dad. Mom. Vicky.At first, he’d been happy, hastily scribbling down details as soon as he got home, or in the coffee shop like some manic journalist.
He had family.
Then it hit him, like his own fist to his face.
They were gone.
Mom and dad before the war. With their names and faces, he soon began remembering when they died. Then Vicky. He’d almost broken down in tears in the grocery store. Had to put down his armful of food and just run out…Then BeccaHe couldn’t remember her die. She wasn’t gone. Was she? But the date. 2015.It had been 70 years.That had been the hardest to process. It didn’t seem like that long. It seemed like weeks. Months. He’d been frozen of course, so only tiny snippets of memory from different times, melded into one.Years, dates, meant nothing to him before. On the rare occasions he saw his own reflection, he just assumed he was a guy, in his 30s who’d been born in Russia or something- and then quickly squashed such treasonable thoughts.
The asset had no identity. He came from nowhere. He had no age. He was not a person. He just existed.
Then, suddenly, it was 2014, and he was starting at a museum exhibit about a man who “died” in 1945. And he was that man. He had his face, his name. His memory of a man called Steve, and some words he’d said long ago.It was like coming back from the dead, like Jesus Christ or something.No, definitely not. He was meant to be a good guy, and Bucky was not a good person. Not with what he’d done. That he remembered. Not in detail, hazy, faces mostly. And hands. His hand pulling a trigger, his fist smashing someone’s face in.Only after did he start picturing other things, nicer things.Like his sister’s name. And a few things about her. Only when Steve gave him the dog tags did it start really remembering more stuff about her, including her face.When he handled the metal rectangles, rusted slightly at one…. rusted. No, he hated that word.Corroded slightly on one end, and then ran his finger along the embossed surface. His initials were on there. J.B. Barnes.Then someone else’s.R. Barnes. Who was that? He must have said it out loud, because Steve said “Rebecca, Becca, your sister. Don’t you remember her Buck? You had three sisters; Becca was the eldest, then Kit, then Vicky”“Becca? Of course I remember her! If I remembered stuff about you, how can I not”? said Bucky a little more defensively than he needed to “I just remembered the nickname, not the full name, that’s why I was confused”.Steve nodded in understanding. He always understood. “D’you want me to help me put ‘em on?” he said about the dog tags? It had been in Wakanda, before he got his new arm.Bucky rolled over, but his hands behind his head. He was fully awake now, so no point doing anything else.“Becca”. He said again, into the dark.He wanted to say it. It sounded so good. It bought back the picture of her face to his mind.“Kit” he said. Her face too.“Steve…”Wait. Steve was not there anymore.Steve was gone.Like his sisters. He was left alone, speaking their names into the dark, without nothing left of them but a piece of metal, an old notebook and his memoires.
“You’re alone… you’re 100 years old, you’ve got no history, no family….”
Raynor’s words echoed in his mind. Tormenting him.Alone.No family.He felt a pricking in the back of his eyes. No, not again. Think of the happy things … that party.The past.Gone, and unlike Steve, he could not just go back. To reclaim what had been lost. He would not see them again. Touch or embrace his sister. Hear her laughter. Look her in the eye.Tears came now. Properly.They’d think he was absolutely, stark, stating raving mad. Crying and speaking words into the dark.Fuck them.Bucky curled up into a ball, his body wracked with sobs. Dr Raynor had been watching Barnes for 5 minutes or more. At first, she wasn’t sure he’d woken again, but then she heard him speaking softly. He may have talked in his sleep, but last time that was just before waking.And this time it was clearer. A name. Becca.Surely it wasn’t one of his victims.No. This time there had been no racing heart or hyperventilating which suggested a bad dream. Besides, he didn’t know their names.Especially not what seemed like pet names.She went through his history in her head. She’d read his file, and of course all the museum exhibits and stuff on the internet.It couldn’t be…Rebecca Barnes Proctor.His sister?She kept listening, and then he said her name again, and a couple of others. This time louder, more assertive. Excited.“Kit” and “Steve”- obviously Steve Rogers, Captain America himself.The names of people he knew. From his past? What did the exhibit say? Eldest of 4 siblings?Then… the little screen started to go mad again. His blood pressure. Something was wrong again, but he was awake.She put her ear closer to the microphone. Heavy breathing. Panting… something like halfway between a whimper and a whine. Only this time it was short and repeated.His body had disappeared under the coverlet, but it looked like it was moving. Trembling.He was crying. Barnes was hiding under the covers and CRYING.She pressed the button:“James? James? What’s wrong. You’re upset. Are you OK?”No answer.She asked again.The third time, he gasped out“Leave- me- a-fucking- lone” in a tone that could only be described as piteous. It was followed by another whimper.His blood pressure was skyrocketing now, and his heart…. probably because of shortness of breath from gasping.
“Oh, for goodness’ sake woman… stop thinking about it clinically, he’s not just some lines on a screen. He’s a person- and he’s in there, crying like a baby under his blankets”
Dr Raynor leaned down and pressed a button on the panel in front of her, and just to be sure, pulled out the micro-usb lead too. Then she got up and went towards the outer door.“Where are you going?” asked Carpenter “I know he’s upset but…”“I’m going in there and you’re not stopping me” she said, closing the door firmly on his protests.She used her key card to enter James’ room. At that moment, she wasn’t thinking anything except he needs help, and I am the only one who can give it right now.She went towards the trembling coverlet in centre of the room- had hadn’t seemed to notice anyone entered- and crouched down. Towering over him on the ground could be seen as a threat, and if startled he might lash out“James” she whispered gently “it’s ok, I just want to help you”The sobbing noises had stopped by now and then the shaking did. Her patient rolled over and pushed down the coverlet with his arm.“What are you doing in here?” he said in a tone that was still pitchy.“I heard you crying. I’m just here to be a listening ear if you want one, OK?”If it had been light, she would have seen his eyes had turned puffy and red.“I didn’t want anyone to see- and no, there’s nothing you can do” he said, still sounding miserable.“I know. I can’t solve anything. I’m just here to listen- and I won’t judge you, no matter what it was about. Do you hear?” Raynor reassured him.She knew it was daring, he could get angry, but she pressed.“You said a woman’s name- it sounded like Becca. Wasn’t your sister called Rebecca?”Barnes looked more sceptical now “First how do you know about my sister, and second I am not spilling my guts in front of all your doctor friends”Raynor said “I turned off the microphone before I came in James, so anything you say to me in here, stays in here. Between us- and I know about your sister from your file.Which is also confidential. Unlike the stuff Romanov leaked on the internet 10 years ago. That and your old military records”James made a noise that was supposed to be a sigh but ended up sounding more like a moan and sat up.“I miss them, OK? I miss my family. My sisters, even that idiot Steve- yeah! Surprise! Big bad bionic man was crying under his covers because he missed his family!”“That’s nothing to be a ashamed of James”“Yes, yes, it is!” he replied in an aggravated tone. “I have absolutely no right. None! I should not miss them- it’s nothing but fucking self-pity and I have even less right to do that.All the families I destroyed, all that I did to those loved ones of all those people I killed. How must they feel!? That’s why I have absolutely zero right. It was bad enough doing that to Tony Sta….”He stopped himself abruptly.“James- it is perfectly normal to miss people you’ve lost- and you have *every right* to those feelings. I know it’s been years, but you’re only just coming to terms with these things now. You are going through the normal process of grieving, and it is *fine* to do that”It didn’t seem to work. James pushed his covers fully off now.“Didn’t you listen to a damn word I said?”“Yes” the Doctor replied, “I just think its total bullshit!”She would have charged money for his stunned look.“What you are feeling, what you are going through is not selfish, its not self-pity, and it is not disrespectful to the families of those people at all.Let me tell you something right now James. Your family, your sisters, they were as much victims as anyone else. HYDRA took their brother away from them, their protector, their kid’s uncle.And guess what? HYDRA took them away from you too. You might not see it that way but it’s exactly what they did. They snatched your life away from you. Your chance to go home from the war and grow old with your sisters. With your friend, heck with your entire generation!”“They took away your chance to marry and have kids of your own. You’d probably by a great-grandfather by now. They ruined all those lives including yours and none of that was your fault. Not any part”Barnes sat, in gobsmacked silence for 30 seconds, his mouth slightly open. Raynor decided to exploit her advantage.“Tell me your sister’s names, James”“Whhaa….t?”“Tell me your sister’s names. Like you were saying in the dark. Then tell me everything you remember about them. Do it!”“Becca, Becky, she was 2 years younger than me. Little, brown hair- favourite color was…. Yellow. Or orange. She lived animals and er…. novels. Read lots of novels… His voice began to crack, but he continued“Kit, Katherine she was four years younger. Pretty. Really pretty. Always turning heads when she walked by. Had a temper too, but none of the guys knew that and thought she was just a sweet little kitten”He was crying again but kept going.“Vicky, the baby. Six years younger, maybe seven. She was ginger, no auburn. Dad just loved her… only red-haired kid. And green eyes. Freckles- she…. she… she died of an infection sometime. In the late 1930s. He was weeping now, panting and trying to breathe evenly again“Sorry…. I. can’t go on”Raynor, relentless continued: “You don’t have to. I want to you say out loud. You miss them. Give voice to it. Cry and shout, yell and swear if you want to. Just don’t punch me, ok?”“I miss them. I miss them. I miss them so, so much. I’d give anything just to see them or hear them again for one minute!”“That’s great, you’re doing really great” she said, and found herself laying a comforting hand on his shoulder. It was the metal one, she realized. Could he feel it?“I MISS THEM!” he shouted now, and then laughed, still crying as well “Oh shit, I sound like a madman! Doc, you better lock me up in a padded cell”“We don’t do that anymore,” said Doctor Raynor. Then she added “You- you can hug me if you want. If that helps””She was kneeling by the side of his makeshift bed now and had been doing it for some time. She didn’t know why she’d said that. What was she thinking? He had the strength of 10 men. He would probably crush her…He threw his arms around her shoulders and buried his face into her chest, heaving with tears still.Wow. OK, he didn’t crush her. He was heavy, but not too heavy.I have the Winter Soldier clinging to me like I’m a teddy bear, and crying onto my shoulder because he misses his family. She thought. My life has taken a really weird turn. Not knowing how to react she found herself almost instinctively rubbing the back of his shoulder, like she’d done with her kids when they were little and upset.He’s not a kid! He’s a 100-year-old, 6-foot super-soldier! Her reason screamed.For the seventh or eighth time that night, she told her reason to shut up, and let her empathy take over.“Is that better? Does that help!” she asked, looking down at the top of his head?He nodded. At least he tried to nod. Not easy with your face buried cotton. Wet cotton now, probably.“Yeah” he said eventually “it actually does feel better”.He finally let her go, and sat back, the hair at the front all mussed ant matted, and looked sheepish.“Sorry, I er…. That was awkward for you” he muttered.“I did invite you to hug me – and you wanted to, so nothing to apologize for” she said“But won’t you get into trouble?” he said, sounding concerned. “Aren’t there rules or something”“I’ll handle that,” said Doctor Raynor. “Trust me I have had far worse things done to me by patients than crying on my shoulder. That’s pretty tame”He seemed placated and so just said “Yeah, but not many of them are superhumans who can punch through cement blocks and throw helicopters, huh. Weren’t you worried I would crush you?”She smiled “I was, for about a second. I think you underestimate how much self-control you have, James”He faced her, saying nothing.“It seems to me you know exactly how strong you are, and you’ve learned how to use your strength the right way” she said. “Not to hurt people when you don’t want to- and I don’t think you want to very often, am I right?”“Maybe?” he said, uncertainly.“You have far too low an opinion of yourself, James. Some day we need to work on building your self-esteem” she said, lightly.“Hey, enough of the psychobabble, what are you some kind of therapist?” her patient replied, jokingly.He was joking now? He clearly felt better.“Yup” she said “fully qualified psychiatrist with a LOT of degrees. Far more than you, young man. And fancy certificates all over her wall, as you say” she smiled.“Show-off” he muttered. “Could you er…. help me get up, please James?” she asked slightly abashed “my legs are very, very stiff and I am something of an old lady!”He smartly got up and put his elbow under her shoulder which she used to prop herself up as she got to her feet. The metal arm again, she noticed.“Thankyou” she said “now, I think it’s safe to leave you. Will you be OK the rest of the night? You don’ t need anything?”“What time is it?” he asked suddenly. “About… yeah 3am” she answered “Which means you got about 3 hours sleep, if that” she said, looking at her digital watch.“OK, I’ll make a deal” said James, “you tell them to turn one of the lights on, and I will use that really boring history book to try and get to sleep for an hour or something? Your idea, right? The books?”This time it was Raynor’s turn to be sheepish “Yeah, that was my idea. I thought they might er… be of interest to you. Wasn’t such a good plan, reminded you of some stuff?”“Not really, no,” said James. “I doubt it, they’re just books, it was just stuff about troop movements in Italy and I didn’t dream about either of those things. But you can take that Steinbeck one. I need a book to bore me to sleep, not depress me to death” he passed it to her.“OK thanks for trying at least. I hope you can get a bit more sleep. Without dreams this time” she added, heading for the door as he re-arranged the crumpled coverlet and placed his sweaty self down underneath it.“Yeah” he said. Then just as she opened the door he added“Goodnight, Doc”.“Goodnight, Bucky” she replied.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
“What the hell, what the ACTUAL HELL did you think you were doing Raynor!” shouted Carpenter pacing angrily “bringing HIM here. You didn’t think I would find out!”“On the contrary” she said, keeping a calm, even tone “I am surprised you didn’t do checks when I put in the consent form. You know, like you’re meant to”“DON’T BE FUCKING SMART with me RAYNOR” he bellowed. “You bought that MAN! THE FUCKING WINTER SOLDIER here! He could’ve killed all the other subjects and everyone in the building if we so much as got his pizza order wrong!”“Don’t be ridiculous, Carpenter. I would not do it if I hadn’t known he was 100% safe. No danger to others. Patients always come first. You know that”.“Also” she added, “stop talking to me like I’m some sophomore med student”Still pacing, still angry. He couldn’t think of a proper response, so he just swore at her.“Nothing happened. As I knew it wouldn’t. He just had two nightmares and far from getting angry they just upset him. He needed some emotional support- yes, support and I gave it to him”“It could’ve” he said “What were you thinking you could have been killed”“What was he going to do, smother me with his pillow?” said Raynor sarcastically. “Maybe lob his book at me?”“Its not fucking funny!" said Carpenter, about to get piqued again.“No, what’s funny, or at least embarrassing is your reaction to all this, Carpenter” she continued “Whatever you read, its wrong. Too many lurid newspapers headlines I suspect”“For your information, I phoned NYPD headquarters. I asked them if they knew a guy with a metal arm, they said they did and asked if he had official permission to be here”“After Googling it, I suspect- and I trust you told them he did”.Carpenter was silent.“Right on both counts then” she said triumphantly.He turned around, muttering.“If you want to make an issue of this, I will take the fall for it. But since *nothing has happened* except me comforting my client who was in severe distress I doubt you can. Unless you wanna be a real jerk”“Just fuck off Raynor” he muttered. “I won’t say anything but just don’t speak to me and don’t ever pull a stunt like this again”Raynor said nothing to him for the rest of night, glad for the peace. She’d had Barnes light turned back on, though using a dimmer. He didn’t move around too much for fear of disturbing the others. She hadn’t told him the walls were soundproof.A little while after the debacle with Carpenter, she smiled with satisfaction noting that Bucky had dozed off reading his book, which was now squashed against his chest with his prosthetic resting on top of it.She plugged the microphone back in and checked to make sure he wasn’t faking but heard his gentle snores.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Office of Christina Raynor: The Following Wednesday Bucky cleared his throat louder then he intended and licked his lips."Thankyou, Mr Barnes" said the lady sitting opposite. "You did really well. Raynor smiled at him from her chair.When had she started doing that?Bucky didn't feel like he'd done well. He'd just finished reading the notes he'd scribbled down about his nightmares from the sleep experiment. Well the first one at least. The horrible one with Zola. And the chair.Still, Raynor seemed happy for now. So, that was something, He guessed? Maybe he was being too cynical. She had been nicer to him this whole session, and this time it didn't seem to be because she wanted something... and she *had* been nice to him there too.He turned over the page of his little notebook, swallowed, and was about ot continue."Wait".. said Raynor as he looked up in surprise."You did well but that was pretty - intense. Reading that out and recalling it I mean""Its unorthodox but I recommend we have a little break before we continue. 5 minutes"Bucky breathed an audible sigh of relief. If he could lose the notes permanently that would be better. Although... did the second one really count as a nightmare? He liked it. He liked remembering them. His sisters. His family.Or did he? Not when it was over, when it hit home.. that they were all gone and he was still here."James! I asked you a question" said the voice in a more demanding tone. Jerking him back to the here and now.He turned towards Raynor, not remembering at all what she'd asked him..."I asked how do you like your coffee?" she said, she'd gone to the door and asked her secretary for something. To make coffee, it appeared."Ummmm, with milk?" he said. "Lots... little bit of sugar?"She said something about cream and came back in."Do you want to go on in a minute" she asked, sounding kinder than usual again."I'm not sure I can.. its hard" replied Bucky, sighing."You're halfway there already, and I already know a bit about your second dream. You told me on the night remember. It involved your sisters" Raynor said, as her secretary navigated her way in with 2 cups of coffee.Raynor took them and passed Bucky his, and he looked at the secretary a little cautiously."Don't worry, Rita is the soul of discretion" said Raynor reassuringly. "besides, patient confidentiality is a legal requirement these days""I didn't hear you talking about anything except the weather" said the Secretary, bustling out.Bucky sipped his creamy coffee slowly, and them put the mug on the floor and picked up his notebook again. Turning to the page he'd dog eared.He recounted some of the details of his dream, sometimes in excrutiating detail. It was weird what he could remember: the colour of Becca's dress, her discussing the last novel she read with some young guy who wasn't interested but pretended to be.Even the faces of a couple a girls he danced with: other than his sister of course. Steve drinking too much. That was funny. Steve drunk. Even Raynor chuckled at that detail."This was before the serum, of course" Bucky felt the need to explain."I know: I am just insanely amused at the thought of THE Steve Rogers, drunk, offering to draw some girl's portrait on the tablecloth to impress her." she said."James" she said "you should make a permanent record of this stuff- you're like a one-man history book. You know things nobody else on earth does about historical figures"He didn't know what to say to that, so he just finished his coffee and read out the final few notes, feeling a stinging in his eyes again. When he reached the end he snapped the notebook closed and took a couple deep breaths.Raynor put down her own mug."Are you done?""Ye-eh" he he said queit, letting out another breath he didn't know he'd been holding in."You did really well there too, and like I said before, you don't need to feel ashamed of missing your family" said Raynot, putting emphasis on the last part."I know. I know" he replied "but I still feel like I have no right to it...." his train of thought was interrupted by a rapid beeping.Raynor touched a button on her watch to make it stop. "Sorry, that is to let me know we only have 10 minutes left""You that desperate to get rid of me you have to set an alarm?" Bucky said, trying to insert as as much humour as he could into the remark."No, believe it or not I do it for everyone. I have a habit of over-running and time is money" she said, apparently avoiding his gaze.Then she did look up: "James, you know you said your family were gone...?""Don't" he said "please don't go there again. It hurts. It was bad enough telling you about that dream..""I understand" she said "but.... how would it make you feel if they weren't all gone. If there was somebody left? Even only one..."?He stopped. Found himself giving her his unblinking stare."What are you talking about?" he said at last "of course they're all gone..."Did she look down again? Was she nervous? She couldn't be."I took a liberty, when you were first assigned to me of doing some, well- research" she said quickly."...and I found something or rather somebody. James, you need to know. Your sister. Rebecca, Becky. She's still alive." Bucky stared open mouthed again. Then his face changed. He looked angry."Are you kidding me? This has to be some kind of trick! I trusted you but THIS?!" he looked as though he wanted to throw her out a window. Maybe he would."Why would I trick you? What do I have to gain from it?" She said quietly but firmly "No, James, I am telling the truth. Your sister Rebecca Proctor is still very much alive. As of 1 week ago, anyway"She continued "She's 98 years old, she lives in a residential home, her health isn't great but she doesn't have dementia or anything. She's still, by all accounts sharp as a tack for her age"Bucky stared again, tearful now "Becky..is...alive?. She's been alive all this time?" he choked out "and Steve never bothered to tell me? ""Well I can't account for Captain America" said Raynor "but from what I have learned, she knows you are alive too. She's known since 2014- and she suspected longer then that""What....what do you mean?" he asked.Raynor told him: "My er... research, files - said that soon after Cap came out of the ice- well Rebecca made contact with him. She decided that if he could re-emerge, alive and well, after all these years then her brother must be alive too""Fuck!" he said for real. Not bothering to moderate his langauge in her office for once "Fuck, you're telling me Steve KNEW, from the start? What the FUCK Steve!"She raised both eyebrows and started at him as disapprovingly as possible "As I understand, he probably didn't have much chance to tell you, you were.... out contact for a long time. And I don't know if Rebecca ever met with him. Just that she contacted him"That seemed to calm him down a bit, and soon he said: "Yeah, I guess with me spending 2 years hiding and running, then running some more he probably didn't have much time for a friendly text message or chat. Not that I had a phone. Too easy to trace"The he continued "...but she's ALIVE! My little sister. Proctor? You called her. She got married?"Raynor nodded "Yes, a few years after The War:actually she techncially got married twice but kept the name of her first husband.She had 3 children, and a lot of grandchildren, which means you are an Uncle, and great-Uncle several times over..." "Whoa!" said Bucky "That's great and everything, but I doubt any of them are up for a happy family reunion. I mean- would you want to be related to ME? They're probably horrified. Cut me out the family tree and burn the whole branch type of thing""Well, once again I can't speak for everyone else, but I understand Rebecca does not see things that way"She continued "She basically raised her kids on stories of Captain America and how she and her brother had been his closest, oldest friends. More like family. They even knew Steve as Uncle"She said some more "she reportedly took her kids and grandkids to the Smithsonian exhibit as soon as it opened. And many times after. I think they even interviewed her for it""She got real angry actually, a couple of years ago, about them printing untrue things about you on there""Here" she said, she had a news headline on her phone "I found it a couple days ago", turning the screen towards him.
They Lied about My "Hero" Brother: Winter Soldier's Sister Opposes Updates to Smithsonian Exhibit
"Wow. Winter Soldier's sister? But she loved that attention" said Bucky, sarcastically, Looking away."She didn't care. She was more concerned with protecting your reputation" said Raynor "and was she mad when she found out that - certain parties- hadn't reported what happened in Germany a few years ago with complete accuracy""She wasn't there, how could she know?" asked Bucky"Well, maybe she and Steve were in contact? Or maybe even Sam?" said the Doctor"Either way, Stark nearly ended up with a libel suit on his hands for "feeding such henious calumnies to the public". Those were her exact words. Apparently, Stark told them Rogers helped you escape""He didn't" said Bucky "Last thing I remember was waking up in a warehouse, with a major headache and being interrogated about the psychologist. Turned out to be Zemo. Then everyone was after him"Raynor nodded "Maybe I could ask them to change some of the details. Rebecca would be pleased" writing something in her own notebook. She looked up again "I think she would want to see you. Rebecca at least""I can't" said Bucky "I can't. She.... she's changed and I haven't, not physically anyway- and she'd hate me. If she really met me I mean. She's obviously still got some heroic fantasy about me. Just like her old novels" he said shaking his head"James" Raynor said "she's read everything. I mean everything. All the files that Black Widow leaked. She's got hold of everything she can. The Youtube videos. She knows as much as everyone else on earth and probably more""What? I'm on Youtube? What parts" he asked?"A lot, but that's not the point, the point is not everybody hates you. Your sister certainly does not" said Raynor."Even if she doesn't- I- I just can't. Its been so long" he said "I can't just sit with her as though I'd only been away on a week's vacation and pick up where he left off""Well, you don't want to let her down either" said Raynor "I've phoned ahead and told her you're going to visit her next week. She's looking forward to it" she said, then turned as her secretary knocked on the door.