Chapter 3
(November 2024)
It took two excruciatingly long days to find any whisper of the Power Broker. Bucky spent most of them trying not to punch something, Sam had immediately snapped back into mission mode, and Torres was mostly dancing around all the heavy energy the other two were bringing to the table.
He’d gotten his SWORD contacts on the case, just as he said he would, and once word got out that what appeared to most as a run-of-the-mill rescue mission of a civilian might have the chance to actually unmask the Power Broker, more resources and attention began to funnel towards them.
All in all, it was still two whole days before those resources produced anything valuable.
The powers that be had uncovered CCTV footage of a black van leaving the Archives. They tracked it via street cameras to the Hudson heading toward Jersey City, where they cut out.
Of course it would be New Jersey.
“This doesn’t actually give us much,” Bucky remarked. “We know she was in Jersey, if she was even in that car, two days ago. She could be literally anywhere by now.”
They were in a random SWORD office, looking at monitors that Bucky was only thinly veiling his desire to break.
“That’s what I thought at first too,” Torres agreed, “but listen to this chatter we picked up from the cell towers near the van at the point the cameras dropped out.” He reached over and pressed a button, and the static-y sounds of a recording played over invisible speakers.
“We’ve got the asset,” a voice crackled. The word 'asset' made Bucky flinch. “We’re almost to the birdcage.”
A pregnant silence fell over the room before Sam asked, “The birdcage? Like the Robin Williams movie?”
Ignoring the ill attempt at breaking the tension, Torres warily glances at Bucky. “We think it's code for a holding cell,” he replied. “And that the footage of the car didn’t cut out because they lost us, but because they arrived at their destination.”
“It could also be code for a trap.” Bucky suggested. Wasn’t that what a cage was anyway? he thought.
Sam nodded in agreement. “Oh, it's definitely a trap.” he confirmed, “Does that make me the bird?”
“I think I’m the bird in this scenario,” Bucky replied with a challenging bend to his eyebrow.
“But you’ve never even had a bird alias,” Sam countered.
“Guys,” Torres interfered, “Not relevant. Although,” he mumbled, “I’m technically the bird now, so..”
Bucky huffed in frustration and passed his hand through his hair. “Do we have any possible locations isolated?” he asked.
“There’s an abandoned office building in Newport right off the Holland Tunnel around where the audio was picked up,” Torres explained. “It's a bit of a cliche bad-guy location, but that would make sense for a trap.”
Sam put a hand on Bucky’s shoulder, “Alright so it’s no sleep ‘till Jersey City?” he asked.
Bucky nodded, and started walking towards the door. “Suit up,” he called over his shoulder.
Sam sighed and met Torres’s knowing gaze before both followed behind him.
(July 2024)
Lena didn’t suggest they meet at one of those fancy new coffee shops that Bucky’s seen all the young people in the neighborhood flocking to. Instead she texted him an address to a luncheonette that looked to be almost as old as he was.
“Zaddie’s” was a small place with a grocer in the front and a deli in the back. Lena met Bucky in the front under their bright red awning. After hesitating and jump-starting a few times, she pulled him into a quick but friendly hug and then led him inside.
She walked straight back to the deli and called out to the man behind the counter, “Herb-y fully loaded! I was hoping you were working today.”
A tall man with a receding hairline and a name badge that reads ‘Herb’ held up his arms. “Lena bo-bina!” he exclaimed. “How are ya, angel!”
“I’m good, Herb, I’m good. How’s Shana and the kids?”
“They’re good. You know Nathan’s going to be a bar mitzvah soon,” Herb answered with a puff of pride.
“You’re kidding!” Lena gaped. “The little squirt’s gonna be a man?”
Bucky watched their exchange curiously. It reminded him a little of how the old neighborhood used to be. Brooklyn would always be Brooklyn, but so many of the old spots had been paved over with what he’s come to learn are pieces of hipster trash. Honestly, Bucky could care less what people are doing nowadays, everything else was already so weird, kids might as well get their rocks off on batch brewed nitrous oxide coffee or whatever else they were into.
It was nice to see some of the old flavor he was used to before the war. He supposed you just had to know where to look.
“Herb,” Lena said, grabbing Bucky’s arm. “This is Bucky.”
“Welcome Bucky.” Herb smiled at him and Bucky smiled sheepishly back. He then turned back to Lena and asked, “So what can I do for you today, miss Lena ba-nina?”
She turned to Bucky. “Is there anything you don’t eat?”
Bucky shook his head. “From a place like this, no.”
“My kind of guy!” Herb exclaimed.
“Then let's do a sampler platter with one everything and…” Lena shot Bucky a questioning look.
“Oh, uh, salt?” Bucky asked. Do they still make salt bagels? he wondered.
“One everything and one salt bagel,” Lena finished. “Oh, and can you throw in a knish?”
“I’ll hook it up, no problem,” Herb replied.
“Thanks Herb, you’re the best.” Lena smiled.
“And don’t you forget it,” Herb joked before turning back behind the counter to fill their order.
“You come here often, I’m guessing,” Bucky observed.
“Mmhmm.” Lena nodded. “I started coming here with Bubbe when I first moved in with her. It's crazy, Nathan was only a toddler back then.”
Bucky stuffed his hands in his jacket to have something to do with them, and then looked around the small place. Rebecca used to come here, he thought. He remembered taking her to places like this after picking her up from school. They used to spoil their dinners with apricot rugelach and surprisingly never got caught.
Bucky debated saying all of this out loud but before he could muster up any courage to, Herb was handing off a foil-wrapped container and a bag to Lena.
“Here you go angel,” Herb called over the plexiglass, “you two enjoy. And don’t be a stranger!”
“Thanks Herb. A big Mazel to Nathan, yeah?” Lena replied.
“Tell him yourself the next time you come in. He’ll be back from summer camp soon,” Herb called after them as they walked over to the few empty tables in the back.
“Will do!” Lena called over her shoulder.
After much argument over who should pay (Bucky won out claiming he was older), they sat at a metal table that kind of wobbled, and Lena expertly unpacked their order.
“Alright,” she said, and began listing things off aloud as she pulled them out, “We got bagels, some whitefish salad, chicken salad, scallion schmear, lox with the works, a knish, spicy mustard, andddd aha!” she exclaimed as she pulled out the last styrofoam container from the bag, “Herb always sneaks me some black and whites.” Lena smiled down at them. “Bubbe always used to get these for me when we came here. Usually it was because I had a bad day and she was trying to cheer me up.” Her smile turned sad for a moment before it perked back up and she regarded Bucky.
“This is a lot of food.” he commented.
“Yeah, well.” She flushed. “It’s a special occasion.”
Bucky noticed the wound-up way she held her shoulders and upon realizing that despite her clear comfort in the space, Lena was just as nervous as he was, he relaxed a little.
“So”–Lena clapped her hands together–“where do you want to start?”
“U-uh,” Bucky stuttered, “I guess, how did you come to live with Rebecca? You said your mom died but-”
“I meant with the food,” Lena cut him off, slow curl of her lip betraying some amusement.
“Oh.” He paused. “I’ll take some whitefish.”
Lena’s nerves seemed to dissipate as she cracked open the salt bagel and handed it over to him along with a plastic knife. She swiveled the platter around so the scoop of whitefish was closest to Bucky.
“Thanks,” he said as he took the knife and began to spread the salad over one half.
Lena did the same with half of her bagel and the scallion schmear before layering a healthy portion of lox over the top.
“You know,” Bucky said as he dug back into the whitefish, “back in the depression, salmon on a bagel was as much a luxury as caviar on a blini.”
Lena took a big bite of her creation and closed her eyes in bliss. “Yeah I could see that,” she hummed around the bite. “Bubbe used to say the same about apple pie.” Lena took another bite. “Every Thanksgiving she’d tell me all about how in the depression they had to make it with Ritz crackers.”
“Yeah.” Bucky picked up his bagel half. “Our Ma kept making it that way even when apples weren’t being rationed.” He took a bite and groaned. It’d been too long since he’d had a bagel that good.
“Good right?” Lena smiled.
“Mmmphhhmph.” Bucky nodded.
There wasn’t much conversation for a while after that, just slightly nervous eating and the occasional comment here or there about her job at the archives, the neighborhood, Herb, the merits of a salt bagel, the horrors of a salt bagel, and even occasionally a brief mention of the reason they were both there: Rebecca.
It wasn’t until Bucky pushed the empty foil wrapping of the knish towards their growing pile of trash that that changed.
“I’m stuffed”–Bucky patted his stomach–“and it takes a lot to pull that off.”
“Aw c’mon don’t tap out yet”–Lena reached over to grab the last container–“we’ve still got dessert.” She put a hand on top of the small box that contained the black and whites.
Bucky was about to protest, to claim that Lena could just take them home with her, when a shadow of sadness suddenly cast itself over her features.
“I got kicked out,” Lena exhaled.
Bucky’s brows drew together. “What are you talking about?”
“You asked how I ended up with Bubbe,” Lena explained. “I got kicked out.”
“What?” Bucky asked, horrified.
She exhaled slowly. “When I was four my mom got diagnosed with a brain tumor and a year later she was gone.” Lena inhaled sharply. “Then, when I was eight my dad remarried a sea witch named Shelly”–her nose crinkled in disgust–“and they had my little brother Zeke.”
“I didn’t know you had a brother,” Bucky replied.
“How would you?” Lena asked not unkindly, drumming her fingers on the plastic lid her hand was still resting on. “Anyway, when I was fifteen, Shelly caught me making out with my best friend Joan and promptly kicked me out of the house.” She could hear Bucky let out a low breath, could feel the sympathy radiate off of him like a heat lamp, but her gaze never wavered from the table. “My dad didn’t stop her,” Lena admitted bitterly, “and the rest of the family didn't care. I thought I was done for until Bubbe took me in.”
“I’m sorry kid,” Bucky said earnestly.
“Y’know,” Lena said ,leaning back against her chair, a sad smile curling her lips, “you’ve always been kind of a hero to me.”
Bucky’s brow drew together sharply and without meaning to he scoffed, “You mean like, the comic books?”
Lena shook her head. “I didn’t really know Bubbe that well before she took me in,” she admitted. “After mom died, she kind of became this distant figure to me. Her and my dad didn’t really get along, so I hardly spoke to her for ten years, save for a card here and there and a check for $18 on my bat mitzvah.
“When I went to live with her, it was like having access to this whole other history. She told so many stories about you and the Howling Commandos.” Without warning Lena reached across the table and grabbed Bucky’s wrist. “She was so proud of you, y’know?” She gave it a squeeze. “She would talk about you like you rose the moon, even when talking about you made her sad. She missed you so much.” Lena let go of Bucky and leaned back in her chair. “That never went away.”
Bucky stared down at his hand and tried to will away the urge to cry. He tried to keep his voice steady as he said, “I miss her too.” He cleared his throat. “So what, you became a Sergeant Barnes fan?”
Lena barked a laugh. “No,” she replied, shifting in her seat, “Sergeant Barnes seemed kinda lackluster in those comics.”
“Hey!” Bucky tried to go for indignation but it came out more juvenile and pouty.
At the sight, Lena’s teasing grin softened. “Jamie Barnes: Big Brother, on the other hand...” she muttered.
He sucked in a breath at hearing the old name. “Haven’t heard that one in a while.”
“Bubbe always called you that.” Lena laughed. The sound filled up the small luncheonette.
Bucky smiled softly. “Yeah, she did.” He knocked her leg under the table and the subtle teasing lilt sprang back into his voice. “Still don’t see how he was more interesting than a Sergeant.”
Lena took the opportunity to pause and gave him an appraising look. “The first year living with Bubbe was rough.” She began, cringing at the memory. “I was so angry all the time;” she explained, “at Shelly for kicking me out, at my dad for letting her, at both of them for keeping me from Zeke, and at the world in general for being so messed up.”
Bucky nodded along. He’d been there before, in that kind of all consuming rage.
“I was also really sad.” Lena looked down and picked nervously at her fingernails. “I loved- love my dad and it hurt that he would choose his second wife over me. And I didn’t really know where I fit in anymore. Everything was so turned around, it felt like I was living a life that wasn't mine, like I was an outsider looking in on someone else’s crappy situation.”
It was a sentiment Bucky empathized with, and his eyes betrayed his understanding.
“One day I finally broke.” Lena sighed. “Bubbe and I had a fight about something stupid and I shouted at her. I asked her why she even cared what I did; if I lived or died. Nobody else did so why her?” She smirked at Bucky, who was listening intently. “Teenage theatrics am I right?” she huffed.
“Anyway, she told me a story. Bubbe was maybe twelve at the time and playing hookie. She was home all by herself with nobody meant to be home for another few hours. She was holed up in her room with a stash of sweets and some magazines when someone came home.
“She heard a pair of men’s shoes walk through the front door, and at first she thought it was your father early from work, but then a second pair of shoes joined the first. She could tell right away that they belonged to Steve because of the funny sound the newspaper in the soles made.”
Bucky’s lips twitched fondly at that detail, a pang of an emotion spread through him that was not quite grief or jealousy, or joy or warmth, yet somehow all of them at once.
“Anyway.” Lena’s voice anchored him away from dwelling on those complicated feelings. “She still didn't want to get busted so she stayed quiet. She heard the two of you walk to your room, talking and laughing, and then you stopped in front of her door.” she laughed. “She thought she was caught, but instead of the sound of the door knob turning, she heard kissing.”
Bucky’s eyes blew wide. “She knew?” he asked in a small voice that didn’t suit him.
A shy but knowing expression bloomed on Lena’s face as she nodded. “She figured it out from there.”
“She never said…''
“She told me that she didn’t understand everything,” Lena assured, “but that she knew there were people who wouldn’t like the thought of two boys kissing, or two girls for that matter, and so she kept it a secret.
“You were her big brother, though, and she idolized you.” Bucky let out a breath caught somewhere between a laugh and a cry. “She knew that even if the whole world said what you and Steve were was wrong, she would go toe-to-toe with every last one of them.”
Bucky gaped at her. “I can’t believe she knew,” was all he could think to say.
“Yeah well, because of that she made sure I was given support when the rest of my so-called family turned their backs on me.” Lena brushed away at her eyes before looking straight into his.
“James,” she said, “because of you I had a home.”
Bucky let those words wash over him, and forced himself to feel their weight. He’s been doing that recently, a mindfulness skill he’s been working on in therapy to let himself be fully present for things. Mostly he uses it with Sam. Whenever Sam tells him something sweet or sincere, even just ‘I love you,’ Bucky has to work to let himself feel it. It's overwhelming and leaves him lightheaded sometimes but it's always worth it to hold on to the knowledge that someone cares.
“That,” Lena said, reaching across the table to poke Bucky’s shoulder in punctuation, “is what made you my hero. It's the reason I’ve been meaning to meet you, just to tell you that. I was going to start tracking you down when the blip happened.”
“Probably good you didn’t come until now.” Bucky winced. “Did she..know?”
“About the Winter Soldier?” Lena asked. Bucky nodded once in affirmation. “No.” she shook her head, “I don’t think so.”
He let out a sigh of relief.
Lena finally reached out for the plastic box and opened it to reveal two cookies. She took one for herself and swiveled the container around to face Bucky. “Tell me about him,” she commanded as she bit into the cookie.
“About who?” Bucky questioned.
“The other guy,” Lena replied as if it were obvious.
Bucky took a deep breath. “No, I don’t think you want to know–”
“Oh, come on.” Lena took another casual bite. “Look, if you really don’t want to, forget I said anything. We might be related but I get it”–she gestured to herself–“I’m practically a stranger, even though you kinda know my life story now.”
“Why do you even want to know? Won’t it”–Bucky looked down at the cookie–“I don’t know, scare you?”
Lena contemplated this as she took another sugary bite. “I’ve heard a lot about him,” she explained, “from the news, from reports...” She tilted her head back and leveled him with a challenging look. “Even from some of the secure documents at the archives.”
He looked up at her and clenched his jaw. “So you probably know it all already. The things I did as him, what I was.”
“I’m an academic,” Lena reasoned, shrugging with a false nonchalance, “I know there’s no more reliable source than the primary one.”
Bucky went back to staring at the cookie for a long moment before he picked it up and took a bite. “What do you want to know?” he asked, crumbs falling clumsily into his lap.
Lena set her half-eaten cookie down and brushed her hands together, resting her elbows on the table. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked like that. I’m not here to make you think about things you don’t want to think about.” She sighed, “I just wanted to know if you always knew she was out there…when you were him?”
Bucky took another bite of his cookie as he contemplated how to answer that loaded question. “In the beginning,” he started, “HYDRA’s main goal was to turn me into a clean slate.”
Lena nodded in sad understanding.
“Once they had that, the objective shifted to maintaining that–” Bucky struggled for the words, “–emptiness. So, most of that time, I wasn’t conscious unless they needed the soldier for a mission.
“If I started to become too aware, they would wipe me clean again.” Bucky rubbed the back of his neck. “It wasn’t until Steve found me that I was able to break away long enough to become conscious of myself again, but my memories came back to me much slower.
“It took a whole year before I could remember that I had sisters,” he admitted, “let alone remember their names and enough about them to even think about seeking them out.” He scrubbed a weary hand over his face. “By the time any of that came to me, it was one world-ending thing after another. I couldn’t start looking until after the snap and by then...”
Lena frowned. “Yeah.”
“It was never me,” Bucky said in a hurry, “I hope you know it was never–”
“I know,” Lena assured him. “She would've believed that too if she’d known.”
Bucky shook his head. “I don’t know ab–”
“She would've,” Lena said with a firm conviction.
Bucky gave her a weak smile and nodded his conceit. A moment of silence passed over them.
“So,” Lena said, taking another bite of her cookie, “you caught up on all of the good new movies?”
Bucky smirked. “I just saw two of the adaptations of Pride and Prejudice.”
Lena’s eyes lit up. “Oooh, and which did you prefer? The 2005 version?”
Bucky groaned. “You and Sam both. It’s not as faithful to the book!”
Lena only laughed.