Characters: Bucky, reader, Steve, Hanna (oc).

Summary: After a traumatic injury and honorable discharge from the military, Bucky Barnes finds himself wanting to travel and get lost in some of the most iconic cities of the world. One night he stumbles upon a girl who sparks something inside him and he finds himself following in her footsteps. How far will he go to find her and what will he discover about himself along the way?

Warnings: Some strong language.

Song Inspiration: "She Lit A Fire" by Lord Huron

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: Oh my goodness, thank you all for your kind words about chapter 1 of this unique series!! I'm so SO grateful to all of you for reading and commenting. I'm so excited to share a new part of Bucky's journey. There's a lot more to come! I love you all!! Please let me know your thoughts, comments and reblogs mean more to me than you know. Love you! <3

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March 24, 2014

Hiya, Steve.

Barcelona has some of the most insanely cool architecture I've ever seen. I mean, I'm not even that guy who says "hey look at that sweet building" but this shit? This is cool. There's this guy, Gaudi, who built houses for commission and now they're considered works of art and have museums inside sometimes. I saw Casa Mila and it's like he took the idea of a building and thought "nah, let's do the opposite of that", so it's all rounded corners and arches and crazy chimneys that you can look at up close.

He also built Casa Batllo that was all curves and colors and stained glass. It's like a fairy tale castle in a dream. I also saw the  Basilica de la Sagrada Familia (yes I copied that out of guide book cause no way in hell could I remember that), which is a gothic-looking church that doesn't follow the rules of a church at all. Would you believe it's designed by that same Antoni Gaudi guy? I think I'm becoming a fan.

There were a lot more Basilicas and cathedrals. A lot of walking and getting lost and gesturing wildly while I try and fail to get my point across in Spanish. But at least I'm trying, right? I'm talking more, I guess just because I have to, and it's pretty okay. The locals are cool. I like wandering the city and going on foot when I can. The food is awesome too, lots of seafood and fancy desserts. I could eat my weight in Creme Catalana which is like a creamy custard with a hard sugar crust on top. That and the hot chocolate, unlike any cocoa I've ever had. It's more like a rich sauce and you dip churros in it. Holy shit, I wanna swim around in that stuff.

And okay, fine, some of my wandering was in the area of a few hostels besides my own. What? You think I'm searching for her? Some sign that she's been there? Okay, maybe you're right. It's crazy, I know, but I just can't get her out of my head, pal. Something is pulling me to her and I don't know...it almost feels like purpose, which I haven't felt in ages.

No sign yet, in case you were wondering. It's a big city. I probably don't have a chance anyway and we've already established that I wouldn't even know what to say, given the opportunity. It's alright. She brought me here and that's enough.

That quote, though? "Not all those who wander are lost"? I knew it was from the Lord of the Rings but it's been so long since I read it. I picked up a copy of The Fellowship of the Ring at the airport and read it the whole flight. Remember how obsessed we were in middle school? The book still holds up after all these years. Hope I can find copies of the next books in English here.

Speaking of, since the quote was in English, she probably speaks it, too, right? I was thinking about that. Wouldn't that suck if I finally grow the balls to talk to her and she doesn't even understand me? Huh. Time to brush up on my languages. Few more days here, I think, and we'll see where the wind takes me. I'd like to see more of Spain.

At this rate, I'll probably just have to hand all the letters to you when I see you. I keep forgetting to mail them and now reading over the past letters, I think you'd probably just question my sanity all the more. I swear I'm doing okay, Steve. Better than I have in a while. Don't worry about me. Maybe I'll try to call soon, since I've failed at communication so far.

Still thinking about you and the boys, fighting the good fight. Part of me wishes I was there. Back in the war? How messed up is that? Yeah, I'm definitely not mailing these letters.

Adios.

JBB

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March 30, 2014

Dear Steve,

You know what's a great city to visit? Paris. I know, it's a cliche, but it's basically a law to see it at least once. My French is barely any better than my Spanish, but I researched the popular sayings while I was on the bus from Barcelona.

Oh, did I say I wanted to see more of Spain? Haha. Silly me. I meant I definitely wanted to head straight to Paris and not stop anywhere on the way. :)

What, you don't believe me? God, you're so judgmental in my imagination. I know that's not really you and anything you do in real life is out of honest concern. I'm just "projecting", as Sam would say. I'm forcing my feelings and judgements on to you unfairly. Sorry, man. The strangest part is I've already decided not to mail these letters so I can write whatever the hell I want. It's just easier to talk to you about all this, even if only in my head. Hopefully I'll find the guts to tell you the whole story someday soon. I'll probably keep these letters as a travel log or something.

Okay, I'll tell you the truth. After that last letter, I spent a few more days walking the streets of Barcelona, seeing the sights, and maybe I walked into another hostel, just to see. You know. And there on the bulletin board, partially hidden by a Spanish flyer for a local band, was one of those stickers. It felt like a zing up my spine and I got all light-headed. She was here.

Holy shit. I had pretty much given up at that point. I took the sticker and asked the woman at the check-in desk if she knew who had put it there. Or at least, I tried in broken Spanish until she told me she spoke English. Thank God. Every country is better at languages than America, it's embarrassing at this point. Anyway, I used Y/N's name, showed the sticker and described her, with some recollection in the lady's eyes but she saw so many people each day. It was hard to keep track. Understandable.

But as I turned away, a blonde girl with braids approached me with a friendly smile, and in my usual suave manner, I panicked and almost dodged her. Luckily she was persistent and had overheard me asking about Y/N. She'd met her a few days ago and they struck up a friendship. I think I actually smiled at her, I was so relieved. Baby steps. So Hanna, the blonde girl, told me that Y/N had left two days ago and was headed to Paris by bus. I told her I was a friend trying to reconnect, you know, to make my search sound less creepy. God, I sound insane.

And here I am, headed to Paris. The City of Lights. Another day, another language I suck at. Here goes nothin'.

JBB

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April 3, 2014

Steve,

It was really good to hear your voice the other day. I wish we had more time, but I know how it is. I'll try to call again soon.

I'm a terrible liar, I know. You kept asking if I was okay and I just...I didn't want to worry you. There's nothin' you could do anyway. Nothin' I could do either. I felt it coming earlier that day. I thought I could fight it and I even tried to lie to myself. Idiot.

It started on the bus from Barcelona. I was dozing against the window when I felt an itch on my forearm so I reached to scratch and of course, it's not there. I hadn't had a phantom sensation in months so having that short moment where I'd forgotten only for it all to hit me like a sledgehammer, I don't know...It's like it's worse than ever. Then a passenger dropped something, startling me, it just...it was all too much but I was stuck in a confined space with strangers and nowhere to go. I got the sweats and the heart racing, tried all the breathing and visualizing Sam taught me but I still spent an hour in hell before we made it to Paris.

I think the check-in guy thought I was on something when I finally stumbled in, asking for a room, but I faked it long enough to seem stable. Maybe. Who the hell knows anymore. So, I called you and then I spent the next two days in possibly the most beautiful city in the world, holed up in a room fighting sleep because I knew what would happen every time I closed my eyes. I'd see it happen over and over and over again...and never be able to stop it.

Maybe if we'd seen the IED in the road sooner. What if we hadn't taken the lead humvee? What if we hadn't volunteered for that mission rather than the other unit? If I hadn't had my arm out the window when we rolled, then—

Goddammit. I can't keep doing this.

I keep trying to tell myself that not all days are this bad, but it's hard to see the light when you're buried in the pit. I finally took some of the high dose meds the doc gave me, but I always feel like shit afterwards. My hands–hand. Just the one hand. Dammit. My hand stopped shaking long enough to write this, so hopefully the knockout isn't far behind.

I couldn't tell you all this on the phone, even if we had the time. I hate worrying you, since you always tend to, even without a reason. Never even scratched the surface about the girl and this whole mess I'm in. All I can do now is pray to whatever God up there that I can sleep. Not too much to ask, right?

JBB

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April 4, 2014

Dear Steve,

Day three in Paris was...better. Anything would have been better, though, in comparison. Finally left the room and got some food in my stomach. Chocolate croissants are damn good. I might've had 4 or 5, no shame. Good coffee, too. Tried my pitiful French a few times but almost everyone speaks English, thank god. America really needs to step it up in education.

Bought a new map of the city and started walking. This is a dumb thing to say, but Paris is a lot bigger than I pictured. I mean, the movies always make it look like all the sights are close together and you can see the Eiffel Tower from everywhere. Big fat lie. I walked about 10 miles in what I think was the right direction before I had to rest my feet. Damn, I've gotten soft. Not enough marching, I guess.

Even tried the Metro, but that was a mess. Mostly I was a mess. Underground. Crowds of people. Illegible maps that I couldn't even tell where I was, let alone where I was headed. Gave up on that idea and finally hopped on a random bus and hoped for the best. I rode around for a while and started to get my bearings a little better. Heard some older women mention the Eiffel Tower in English, so I listened in like a creep and found out there was a different bus line that would take me there. Eavesdropping has its advantages.

I hopped off the bus just after the ladies did and then found an intersection nearby on the map. Didn't look too far to the Eiffel Tower, so I headed that way and let me tell you. For something that big, it sneaks up on ya. I rounded a corner and was about to cross a bridge over the river when I spotted it. Holy shit. It's just like the pictures. Impossible to tell the real scale of it until you're close by.

There were people lounging on the grass nearby and maybe that would be enough for me, but I decided to go to the top. Not sure what made me wanna do it, but I did. There are two separate elevators that'll take you to the top but I couldn't handle the close quarters for that long so I climbed. Yup. I took the damn stairs all the way to the top. 1,700 steps or something. Jesus. I took plenty of breaks to catch my breath, but it was worth it. It's so surreal to be up there, Stevie. The whole city spreads out before you. Took my breath away. Or maybe it was the stairs. Whatever.

You can put coins into sort of telescopes and I did that for a while. Spotted the Arc du Triomphe which was my next stop. Really nice to get my bearings that way, seeing the city like that from up high. I climbed back down (god help me) and headed for the infamous arch, even walking partway up the Champs Elysée with all the fancy shops. Good thing I didn't try to step foot inside cause they'd probably think I was homeless. My hair's getting long and the unshaven look probably doesn't help.

Arc du Triomphe is...bizarre. It's huge and famous and historic and also just a traffic circle? With like, 10 lanes. Driving in this city might be close to a nightmare. As if I didn't already have enough of those of my own. I didn't spend the money to go up into the arch but it was a sight. Somehow I made it back to the hostel and finally collapsed. Paris is beautiful and exhausting. More to see tomorrow.

Hope you're well, pal.

JBB

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So??? How amazing does Barcelona sound? It's definitely on my list! I have been fortunate to visit Paris and it was amazinggggg. There's more to come! Oof. I miss it. I hope I wrote a decent job of Bucky's PTSD. I've done my research but it's a difficult subject. Please let me know your thoughts, I love to hear from you! I adore you all! <3