Finding You

As Zemo pulled the car around to meet them, Bucky immediately jumped in the front seat, but Sam hesitated when he saw Sharon falter and take a step away from them.

Sam reached out his hand to her.

“Sharon?”

She looked from his hand to somewhere, anywhere, else. She shook her head.

“I can’t.”

Bucky, watching the exchange, released a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.

“Sharon, you have to come with us.”

She painfully smiled and shook her head again.

“You know as soon as I step foot off this island that I’m either a dead woman or a jailed woman. I don’t like the thought of either.”

Bucky couldn’t explain it then (though it’d be a little while before he’d actually admit it), but he began to panic. He’d just found her. After…everything, he’d found her.

And he wasn’t going to let her go without a fight.

He got out of the car to better plead his case.

“We can keep you safe. Just, please come with us.”

Sharon threw him a skeptical look.

“How can you be so sure?”

Sam and Bucky shared a glance before speaking in unison.

“Just trust us.”

———

After some slightly more convincing, mainly on Bucky’s part, Bucky and Sharon headed back to her apartment to pack up some of her things, the more “essential” items as she’d worded it. Sam and Zemo headed back to ready the jet to take them where they needed to go.

“I just need to get some things from my bedroom.”

He’d nodded and followed her, hesitating in the doorway, unsure if she wanted him in her private space.

“Uh, I can just…help with something else or if you need help in here…?”

She smiled at his nervousness. When was the last time Bucky Barnes was even in a woman’s bedroom?

“I should be alright,” she said as he looked slightly disappointed, “but, I could use the company.” She smiled, silently inviting him in as he finally stepped through the doorway into her room. He glanced around the room, noting everything about it compared to the rest of her luxurious apartment. This was definitely not luxurious. It was small, cozy, and…simple. She had a couple of pillows and blankets on the bed, which made him smile slightly as he remembered the mattress in Athens. At least that part was better. It was such a stark contrast to the rest of the place that the shock must’ve shown on his face. She grabbed some clothes from her closet, glancing at him as she spoke. “Is everything okay?”

His head whipped around at her voice.

“Yeah, it’s just…this room is so different from the rest of this place.”

She nodded slightly.

“Yeah,” she pointed out to the other rooms, “interior decorator. But I refused to let them in this space. This is…mine.”

He nodded in complete understanding. Private space was, well, private. Your own. When you lived the lives they did, having that space was vital to your mental health. He was gradually learning that, though it’d be a few more years before he’d be completely comfortable with that idea.

“I understand that. Privacy is important.”

His hand automatically touched his jacket pocket. He could feel Steve’s letter burning a hole through it but he wasn’t ready to give it to her just yet. Not yet. Not when, well, not before he got her out of this place. Besides, what would he even say? He hadn’t yet quite figured out how to start that conversation.

She dropped some clothes in the suitcase and stopped, putting her hands on either side of it. She took a deep breath and shook her head, a few tears escaping and falling down her face. She wiped at them quickly, but it was too late. He’d seen them.

“Hey, what is it?”

He quickly made his way closer to her.

“It’s nothing.” She stepped away from him, grabbing some items from her nightstand. She kept her back to him as she spoke. “It’s just that I was starting to accept this place. This life. After hiding and being on the run for so long, I thought maybe I’d found some kind of normalcy.” She turned back to face him, a few more tears threatening to fall. “But now? I’m running again when I could so easily stay here. Blend in with all of this. Make a name for myself here.”

He felt it again. That panic. That overwhelming fear of losing something. He wasn’t sure why he kept feeling it around her, but there it was. And he wasn’t sure how to squash that feeling. But, if he was being completely honest with himself, he wasn’t sure he wanted it to go away.

“Is that what you really want?”

She sighed and his heart sank.

He glanced behind her at the framed photos on her dresser. They were the same as the candids Maria had put in her file. Sharon followed his gaze and walked over, grabbing them. She tossed them in her open bag on the bed and smiled sheepishly up at him.

“I don’t know. It’s easy here. I can be anyone. No one cares about my family name. They don’t have expectations of me because of it. They don’t care who my aunt was or who I used to…date.” She reached for her makeup bag and tossed it in her suitcase with extra emphasis and looked up at him, crossing her arms. “Sorry. I don’t mean to be this way, it’s just…”

“Survival.”

They held each other’s gaze and smiled in silent understanding.

Steve would later say something about shared life experience, but it’d be a while before Bucky or Sharon would fully accept that answer and everything that came with it.

“I need to grab a few more things and close up shop on a couple of others. Make yourself at home.” Sharon brushed past him and left him alone in the bedroom. Her bedroom. He didn’t yet trust these new feelings that came from being in there. He waited a moment before walking out and wandering around the expansive apartment. He stopped in the vast hallway to check out the view from her windows. He admired the various, and quite impressive, original art on her walls. He glanced in at the enormous chef’s kitchen. He stumbled upon what he could only assume was her office. It wasn’t quite a full library but there were several bookshelves full of books. Were these already here when she moved in? Did she buy all of these in Madripoor? Are they just for looks? He ran his fingers along the spines of a few, recognizing some of the titles from long ago. He started to pull one off the shelf when he heard Sharon speaking to someone. Peeking around the doorframe, he saw her talking to a shorter woman with dark hair near the foyer. “Go ahead and close up everything. I’ll transfer the funds. Stay safe.” Sharon gave the petite woman a hug before turning around and spying him in the doorway. He walked slowly towards her as the woman walked out the door. 

“Who was that?”

“Just my assistant. She’s going to help me close up things here for a while.”

There was that panic again.

“For a while? As in…you might come back?”

He could feel the bile in his throat.

“I don’t know. I like to keep my options open. You and I both know it’s better to be prepared for the inevitable, just in case.”

He wasn’t sure why his heart sank at those words, but it did. He mustered a half-smile.

“So, are we ready to go then?”

“Yes,” she began to walk towards her office, “just have to grab my computer and we can go.”

He waited by the door as she grabbed her suitcase and bag from the bedroom.

“I can take that.” He reached for the handle of her suitcase, their hands brushing slightly as he did so. He immediately blushed and smiled, embarrassed at the accidental touch. She smiled, too, as their eyes met. He’d touched her before, but only in trying to save her life from an exploding lab of super-soldier serum. (And also when he tried to kill her several years ago, but he didn’t want to think about that particular memory anymore.) No, this was different. This was…intimate, though he wasn’t sure why. She nodded slightly in thanks, then turned to look around her apartment. He watched her as his heart clenched. It took a minute to summon the courage to speak. “Listen, if you really want to stay…”

“No, it’s…it’s okay. Time to move on.”

She walked out the door and he pulled it closed behind him, following her.

———

He texted Sam on the way to the small airfield. The plane was ready as Bucky and Sharon’s car pulled up next to it. They quickly hurried up the steps as the plane’s engines roared to life. It had to be a quick getaway, just in case anyone followed them. Sam and Zemo were already onboard waiting as Sharon settled in one of the seats and buckled her seatbelt.  Bucky did the same in the seat across from her.

“About time you two got here. Don’t ever leave me alone with this criminal ever again or one of us might not survive.”

Zemo looked at Sam, slightly offended.

“I would never kill you, Sam.”

“I wasn’t talking about me.” He gave a pointed stare to the criminal seated across from him.

Bucky squeezed his eyes in frustration.

“Can we just get out of here, please?”

Sharon raised a finger.

“I’d still like to know where we’re going.”

Bucky opened his eyes and softened his tone.

“Somewhere safe.”

She seemed skeptical. As usual.

“So, we’re just getting on one of Zemo’s private planes, headed somewhere unknown?”

“Well, I know. And Sam knows.”

She looked between Bucky and Sam.

“Either of you care to share with the rest of the class?”

Zemo piped up.

“Yes, I, too, would like to know where it is we are going.”

Bucky sighed. Loudly.

“Can’t there be any mystery anymore?”

Sharon rolled her eyes.

“Fine. Let’s just hope it’s somewhere without extradition.”

Zemo raised his glass of whiskey in agreement as Sharon pulled her seatbelt strap a little tighter.

Bucky smirked.

The plane began to move as the pilot, in a heavy eastern European accent, made an announcement.

“Total flying time to Reykjavik will be approximately 14 hours 48 minutes. Enjoy the flight.”

Sharon gave Bucky a pointed, and possibly panicked, look.

“Iceland?”

Bucky shrugged, laid his head back, and closed his eyes.

FOUR AND A HALF MONTHS EARLIER

They hit another bump that made Bucky nearly hit his head on the interior roof of the 4x4 jeep. Sam drove like he flew. Fast.

“I rode in tanks in World War 2 that were less bumpy!”

“Well, excuse me! I asked if you wanted to drive and you said no!”

“So this is my fault?”

Bucky held on to the handle above the door as they hit another bump.

“You had your chance! Now, stop side-seat driving!”

Bucky shook his head and held on.

They were doing their best to follow the coordinates from the piece of paper in the passport they’d found in Athens. Through his research, Bucky thought this could be one of the possibilities. There was a safe house here, set up by Fury many years ago for Thor in case he or Jane ever needed it. A halfway point for them, he’d said. But were Thor and Jane even a thing anymore? Bucky couldn’t keep up. Regardless, Sharon knew about most, if not all, of SHIELD’s safehouses, especially in Europe.

It was a long, winding, off-road journey to the cabin in the middle of nowhere. Well, not nowhere. They were north of Reykjavik, by a few hours’ drive, in the Westfjords. Something suddenly beeped on Bucky’s phone, alerting them to nearing their destination.

Bucky looked around them.

“Slow down, it should be just up ahead.”

Sam shifted into a lower gear and began braking as they topped a hill and the land opened up into farmland. There, about a hundred yards from them stood a small cabin, a barn, and fencing as far as they could see. Several Icelandic horses walked closer to the fence as they turned in the driveway and pulled closer to the house.

Sam and Bucky both stared out the window.

“You ready for this?”

Bucky shrugged.

“Guess we’ll find out.” They stepped out of the jeep, the gusty, Icelandic wind taking them both by surprise. Sam zipped his jacket up higher, which made Bucky chuckle. “Bet you wish you had some leather now!”

Sam rounded the front of the jeep to catch up to him.

“Man, shut up! I’m gonna get me one of those Icelandic sheep sweaters before we leave here.”

Bucky approached the cabin door and lowered his voice.

“You should do that. It’d be a nice step forward in fashion for you.”

Sam threw him a death glare and Bucky grinned.

Bucky looked in one of the dirty windows next to the door as Sam glanced around the property.

Sam shook his head.

“Looks deserted.”

Suddenly, a bullet blasted through the front door and zipped past their heads. They both ducked and took off running for the jeep, hiding behind it.

Bucky shouted to be heard over the gunfire.

“Is it Sharon?”

“Does she have a reason to be shooting at us?”

“She does if she doesn’t know it’s us!”

Sam turned to yell towards the cabin.

“Hey, Sharon! Is that you? It’s Sam!”

Bucky smacked Sam’s arm.

“Tell her it’s me, too!”

Sam rolled his eyes.

“Why can’t you tell her?”

“Will you just say it? You could’ve already said it by now!”

“What’s the matter with you? You’re a grown man!”

“So are you!”

Sam turned back to the cabin.

“Bucky the man-child is here, too!”

The bullets stopped.

Sam and Bucky looked at each other, surprised. They peeked over the vehicle at the cabin, holding their collective breath as the front door slowly opened. An older woman with a gorgeous head of cropped white hair appeared. Sam and Bucky both stood up straighter.

“What the -“

“It can’t be.”

Bucky and Sam stared at the petite woman holding the two pistols. Even though she now had as many years on her as Steve did, she smiled the same flirty smile they both knew all too well.

“Oh, hey, fellas.”

Bucky swallowed hard and struggled to say her name.

“Natasha?”