Characters: Bucky, reader, Steve.

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: 2k

A/N: IT'S HAPPENING Y'ALL EVERYBODY FREAK OUT!!!!! Please let me know your thoughts!! I adore you all!! <3

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April 17, 2014

Dear Steve,

Greetings from a northbound train somewhere in England! Also, high five to my past self for springing for a "quiet" car cause I needed it. There was a loud group at my hostel last night and even in my single room, I could hear them drunken singing through the wall ALL. NIGHT. LONG. I finally ducked my head out and must've given that "murder glare" that you told me I have cause they finally quieted down. Little shits.

Anyway. Sorry about the early call this morning, but in my defense it was even earlier for me and I hadn't had my coffee yet. I can't even tell time while uncaffeinated. It was good to talk to you, pal. I know, I waited too long between calls. I'll try to be better about that. If I ever actually mailed these letters then the gaps between wouldn't be so bad. Failure on my part. Glad to hear that you're doing well, though. And congrats on the promotion! Captain Rogers does have a certain ring to it. We'll have to properly celebrate when I see you. A couple more months to go.

I'm excited to see more of Scotland. The train ride has been gorgeous, the city giving way to rolling hills and pastures. We should be passing through into Scotland soon, I think. According to the map, anyway. Everything is so green and the names of the towns are so quaint. Now, that's a word I've never used before but it's fitting. I was reading up on Edinburgh in a guide book I picked up and guess what? They have a big ass castle! Yeah, buddy! Haha. It's right at the end of the Royal Mile, which is one of their oldest cobblestone roads that is, you guessed it, a mile long. Which is funny, since they don't even use miles, they use kilometers. Interesting.

I've looked into some walking tours and other sights to see but I might just wander. That's been my favorite way to see the cities. Sorry about the handwriting being even worse than usual. With the swaying and my drooping eyes, it's no wonder. The movement of the train is soothing, too. I'm about to pass out soon, after losing sleep because of those idiots last night. Maybe I'll try and rest my eyes for a—-

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"Last call for Edinburgh! Any passengers disembarking at Edinburgh, last call," the ticket checker bellowed in a Scottish accent from the far end of the train car, rousing you from sleep.

You groaned, pulling your hood down further to block out the noise. One more hour until Glasgow. Suddenly, you heard a loud rush of movement followed by a string of curse words in English. You peeked out just in time to see a man run past you toward the door, desperately trying to zip up his bag and also wrangle a duffle bag all with one arm. His backpack struck the sidewall as he took the stairs down to the platform, leaving behind a fluttering of papers in his wake.

Jumping into action, you tried to gather all the papers and stuff them into the notebook they had escaped from, but once you had, the doors were closed and the train was in motion. Nose pressed up against the glass as the platform grew smaller, you spotted the man checking the bag's contents, most likely searching for what you now held in your hands.

Returning to your seat, you looked down at the jumbled papers and tried to decide what to do with them. You pulled down the tray table from the seat in front of you and tried to shuffle the papers more neatly. One sheet was sticking out of an envelope and the letter was now crumpled. Pulling it out, you attempted to smooth out the wrinkles when your eyes caught on a certain scrawled word on a page.

Y/N.

Quickly looking away, you felt the guilt sink in at the idea of reading someone else's personal letters. Having your name in his letter could be a total coincidence. The idea of a stranger actually writing about you was insane. The odds were impossible. Taking a deep breath, you shook off the guilt and did your best to not focus on the words as you turned the folded letter over so you could slip it back into the envelope. It was already addressed and the word "Santorini" in the upper left corner unintentionally caught your eye.

Your heart leapt into your throat, remembering the amazing time you spent on the Greek Island only a few weeks ago. Again, impossible. He couldn't have been talking about you. And yet...

Wrestling with your own conscience, you let your gaze wander toward the window as the Scottish countryside was slipping past the train. What were you supposed to do with these letters? The mystery man was gone and the train was headed to another city miles away. You'd never be able to unite the man with his possessions. Unless...

Glancing back down at the papers, you had a thought. Maybe there was an address in the notebook that would lead to him. Maybe his most recent letter mentioned where he was staying or what his plans were? Was it worth it to take the risk and invade his privacy rather than not try at all? There were at least a dozen letters. He would certainly be wanting them back, and shouldn't you at least try to return them? Or should you mail them yourself? Were they meant for more than one person?

Biting your lip, you hesitated a moment longer before plucking the letter with your name in it out of it's envelope. With shaking hands, you began to read.

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Sitting on a bench at the train platform in Glasgow, your mind was reeling. It was impossible. All of it. Except, it was also true. This man, this...Sergeant Barnes, he was writing about...you. You finally had a name of sorts, the return address on the first few letters that he intended to mail penned by a "Sergeant J.B. Barnes". A soldier. A fellow traveler. A good man with a good heart and a sense of humor, from what you gathered from his writings. You had read the letters all the way through three times after sorting them by date. Your mind reeled, still in shock that this man was inspired by a quick glimpse of you at a bonfire on the beaches of Greece.

Thinking back to the morning you checked out of the hostel in Santorini, you did vaguely recall seeing a handsome man at the bottom of the stairs. It had been weeks since then, though, and you'd seen thousands of faces in a dozen cities. Now, you wished you had a better chance to take a good look at Sergeant Barnes before he rushed off the train. All you recalled was dark hair under a baseball cap as he struggled with his bags.

Miraculously enough, it seemed that the two of you had spent the past few hours sharing the same space without even knowing it. You slept through most of the journey, pulling your hood over your face to drown out the light as you napped, so it wasn't impossible that you missed each other. He clearly slept as well, having most likely dozed off while writing according to the mark of a pen trailing off the page on the last letter.

Suddenly aware of how bizarre it was that someone spent so much time in search of you—jumping on trains and planes on a whim—you considered how you felt about it. Sergeant Barnes said himself that he worried that his actions were creepy and didn't even dare to tell his friend. Was it creepy? You searched your mind, thinking back at the times where you actually did feel unsafe or creeped out by men on your travels. Almost instantly, you knew it didn't feel the same. He wasn't stalking you or meaning any harm toward you. It felt more like he saw you as a means of inspiration, willing him to act when he normally wouldn't. You were his...muse of sorts?

That felt a little strange, but not in a bad way.

Still clutching the most recently written letter in your hand, you looked down at the words that held the story tying you to a man you'd never officially met. Regrettably, you now weren't sure if you'd ever have the chance. Unless...

Feeling a smile grow larger upon your face, you started to formulate a plan in your head. Digging into your bag, you found your travel notebook, opened it to a fresh page, and put pen to paper.

________________

Dear Captain Rogers,

Hello! Greetings from Glasgow, Scotland! First of all, I wanted to thank you for your service and to send you and your comrades good thoughts and safe wishes. My name is Y/N. We don't know each other, but we do have a friend in common...sort of. It's kind of difficult to explain.

Enclosed is a stack of letters that will make more sense than any summary I could offer. I ask you to read those first before continuing on with this letter. Please.

All good? Good. It's a lot, right? But in the best way. I had the privilege of reading them several times before sending them your way. Sergeant Barnes has a poetic and unique way of seeing the world. I'm honored that I could spark something in him, even without my knowing it until now.

On that note, yes. I am the woman mentioned in the letters, bizarre as it may seem. I've also included a copy of my travel itinerary up to my current location as a form of proof. I wouldn't blame you for being skeptical. Or him. I do want to apologize for invading his privacy, by the way. Although, since he followed me across an entire continent, I suppose we're even :). I don't mind at all, by the way! I want Sergeant Barnes to know that. I know he was worried that his behavior was "creepy" but I assure him I have no such feelings. Please tell him that if you get a chance.

Anyway, I came in possession of these letters after he accidentally dropped them while getting off the train in Edinburgh. I tried to catch him and return them, but the doors closed and we were on our way. I'm sorry that he is without them; it must be an awful feeling to lose something so personal. I hope he'll be relieved when he hears that they were found and doesn't mind that I was the one lucky enough to acquire them.

I didn't know what else to do except mail them to the only address given, which was yours, Captain Rogers. If this is where the story ends, then I feel privileged to be a part of it. However....I thought that there might be a way for it to come full circle. I'd love to meet Sergeant Barnes officially and if he has the same desire, could you pass along the following information when you speak with him? I know it's a lot to ask and as I've said, I have no expectations, only hope.

I will be in Amsterdam next month for a friend's wedding and if he'd like to meet, I will be at Cafè de Jaren at 2pm on the 20th of May. The address is Nieuwe Doelenstraat 20-22, Amsterdam. I hope to see Sergeant Barnes there, but again, no ill feelings if he's not comfortable meeting.

Thank you again, Captain Rogers, and I wish you both the best the world has to offer.

Sincerely,

Y/N

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AAHHHHHHH. YOU GUYS. This is the chapter I have been SO EXCITED to share. It's happening!! The train!! The letters!! She saw!!!!! I'M FREAKING OUT!!! Okay, gotta take a breath. Whew. :D So??? What do you think? I know, Scotland is amazing, I've been there. I'd love to show Bucky traveling around the Highlands but this was the plan all along. Just missing each other in the train car?? So wild. Would you read the letters? Oof. That's a tough choice. I mean, I'm a snoop so yeah, I probably would. haha! She mailed them to Steve!!! What happens now? Do you think Bucky will meet her? ;) I'd love to hear your thoughts, any and all feedback is appreciated! I adore all of you who have given this story a chance. Thank you. <3