Chapter 1
Chapter 1 - first date
"So, have you dated much since half of the fish in the sea came back?" "Not really" he replied, watching her dry a dish and put it on the shelf. "I, uh, tried the whole online dating thing" he paused, hundreds of images flashing across his mind. "It's...pretty crazy. A lot of weird pictures." The girl turned back to look at him smirking. "What kind of weird?" She went back to drying another dish. He thought for a second before answering: "I mean...tiger photos?" Her head snapped back to look at him, and she was smirking knowingly this time. He knew he shouldn't have mentioned the tiger photos. From what he had seen, it was mostly men posing for a photo with a tiger. He tried to smooth it over. "I mean, half the time I don't even know what I'm looking at, it's...it's a lot" he nodded but she was still side eyeing him.
It wasn't that he wasn't attracted to women. This girl was very pretty and back, before..., well, in the 40s he had loved going dancing with women and flirting with them. He had always known, even then, that his appreciation for how handsome men were, might have been out of the ordinary, but he could ignore it, he had to ignore it. But now, so many years later, people were more accepting of, he disliked the word still from his childhood, people in homosexual relationships. He didn't mind other people being like that, but he struggled coming to terms with that himself.
He took a sip of beer to stop from overthinking about that now. "You sound like my dad" the girl said. All Bucky could think of to say was a non-committal "hm". The girl, Leah, he finally remembered her name, lowered her beer, still watching him closely.
"Wait, how old are you?" "106" he replied without missing a beat. She raised a questioning eyebrow before chuckling. Bucky gave a feeble chuckle himself, trying to figure out, why she was laughing. Maybe not very many people were aware that Steve Rogers wasn't the only one frozen through time. The thought of Steve hurt, so he was grateful when Leah continued her questioning.
"What's up with the gloves?" Bucky looked at his hands, feeling wrong-footed and increasingly panicky. How had he never come up with an excuse about this before. He flexed the fingers on his right hand, his ok hand, staring at it as if hoping to find an excuse etched into the sleeve of his jacket. "I, uhm, I have, uh, poor circulation."
"Let's play a game", Leah said, ducking under the counter to retrieve something. He should really leave. She was a nice girl, which was even more of a reason to stay away from him. Even if he wasn't programmed to be the Winter Soldier anymore, there was still darkness in him. He turned around, hoping to find a reason to leave standing in front of the small restaurant. He was still staring outside when Leah reappeared with a long, flat box clutched in her hands.
"Do you like games?" "Oh, yeah, I love 'em" he said, wishing he could inject more enthusiasm into his words. She deserved more than this. No one deserved this, deserved him. It was like a punishment being on a date with him.
Leah placed the game on the counter. "I keep a couple games around...for boring shifts" she smiled at him again. 1940s Bucky would have been into her. She was friendly and kind and funny. And yet, he felt nothing. All he felt was the heavy regret, the soul-crushing, never-ending, regret that weighed on his shoulders all day and kept him awake all night. He hated everything he had done, everything he had become. It didn't matter that Hydra had put that in him. He had done all of those things.
"I'll go grab a couple beers" Leah said, disappearing into the backroom again. Bucky looked around and his eyes landed on a cat shaped plastic figurine. It's left paw was raised and waving at him. The waving never stopped. Now that he had noticed it, it would drive him crazy. He reached out and stopped it, glaring when it started waving again after a few seconds. Leah re-emerged and beckoned him over to one of the tables. She set up the game and they started playing.
She was smiling at him, watching him closely. This much positive attention on just him was stressful and weird. He tried smiling but that didn't do much, so instead he asked, "what are you doing?" "I'm reading your mind" Leah said, still watching him closely. He knew that she didn't mean anything by it, he knew that she couldn't read his mind, but the sentence made his heart race and not in a good way. His normal hand was sweating its glove and he couldn't bare to continue looking at her. "Please don't" he tried playing it off, but he wasn't sure it had worked. "B-8, sucker" she smirked. It took him a few seconds to remember what was happening and to find what he was looking for. "uh...hit" he finally exclaimed, and she chuckled in response. He struggled with the small pins. "Drink", she laughed. The glove made him clumsy and he fumbled the pin again. "Come on, drink" she challenged him again, still smiling. "Alright...ok" he mumbled before taking a swig from his bottle.
"Wow, you really can drink" she said, and he wasn't sure how to interpret her tone. "Yeah, well" he responded, successfully avoiding having to say anything else.
"Do you have any siblings?" She asked. He sighed internally. They were back onto the questioning. Is this really how people dated these days? "Yes, I have a sister. F-4." "Miss. Drink" He fumbled with the pin again before reaching for his beer. "Are you close with your parents?" He shot her a look trying to decide how honest to be. On this one, he decided to be completely honest. "I was. They passed away." He sighed heavily. "Uhm, D-5" he tried, whether to distract her or to end the night as quickly as possible, he wasn't sure. "I'm sorry" she replied before checking her battleship. "Miss." He sighed but raised the bottle to her in a mock-toast before downing the rest of its contents.
"I think it's really nice that you're spending time with Yori. It's been hard for him since his son died. I think not knowing how it happened is the hardest part for him." She wasn't watching him anymore and he wasn't sure whether he was grateful for that. He wanted to tell Yori, he really did. He just had no idea how. And with her words, the dead weight settled heavier than ever back on his shoulders. Bucky knew how it happened. He had been there. It had been his fault. He was the reason Yori's son was dead. "It really messed him up" she added. Something inside him was screaming. He was the reason. There she was lamenting about a dead man when his killer was the man opposite her. But she had no idea and he himself was too much of a coward to even tell anyone what really happened. Most of all Yori. Time after time, he had taken him out for lunch, trying to make himself say the words but every time he found he didn't have it in him. He couldn't bare having someone else hate him so much for the things he already hated the most about himself. Something nothing and no one could ever change.
"You know how you call a guy whose wife died a widower? Or, if your parents die, you're an orphan." Bucky nodded, not trusting himself to speak. "You know, there's no word for someone whose kids die", there was pain and grief on her face as she spoke. And he couldn't do anything about it. All he caused was pain and death and brokenness. "Because it's like the worst thing that could happen." The weight was crushing him. The walls were closing in on him. His therapist had called this phenomenon a panic attack. He didn't care what they were called. He just knew he needed fresh air. And he had to tell Yori about what really happened. "Excuse me" he said getting up from the table. "You good?" he vaguely registered the concern in her voice but was already half-way out the door before the need for a response even crossed his mind.
The night was cold on his face and he took a few deep breaths as he walked. He didn't need to look where he was going. His feet knew the way.