Joana

Ever since that first night spent together, Joana and Bucky tried to avoid all attempts of physical contact. I should tell you that when the two woke up, they were facing each other, their faces only mere centimeters apart. She woke up first. The sun barely skirting over the horizon cast a youthful glow over his face. She breathed slowly, softly, hoping not to wake him. His arm was still around her waist. He looked peaceful in his sleep. He was handsome, the way he lay, with his hair cascading over his arm and face. With his stubble that needed to be shaved. With the way his lips moved...

Joana shook her head, looking anywhere but his face. She needed to control her emotions. She reused to force him to remember her the way she wanted him to. If she just straight up told him that he loved her, maybe he wouldn't remember the way he loved Natalia, or the girlfriend he had before her. If she just told him that she had survived all those years in HYDRA just so she could be with him again, then maybe he would think he survived the whole thing just for her too. She didn't want to shape his memory by telling him her perspective of things and if she couldn't get her emotions in order who knows what might. 

As she shifted, trying to move away from his all too perfect face, his arm tightened around her waist as he slept, the metal of his arm cool against her bare skin. Her stomach twisted and churned and all she wanted to do was scoot closer to him and kiss him like she used to. When she shook her head again to battle away the thoughts, he finally woke up. When he did so, he simply stared at her as she had done to him. 

"Good morning," he said finally, his voice gruff and coarse as one's is in the morning. She watched his lips move and then flitted her eyes back to his own. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, she rolled out from under his arm and off of the mattress. 

"It's late. I need to stretch before we train and then I need to go to work," she said, standing suddenly. She hurried over to where her clothes were stashed so that she might escape his gaze as she changed. When she emerged from their tiny bathroom, Bucky was just pulling a shirt over his head and her face flushed. 

She glowered at her self, shaking away the embarrassment that swept her. She was not some schoolgirl with a meager crush. She was a warrior, a survivor, a soldier, not a twelve year old girl. Bucky pulled up his hair into a bun. Joana saw fit to copy him. She pushed up the mattress against the wall to give the two of them room to do what needed to be done. 

You see, Joana spent years strapped to a chair, immovable. While the muscle memory is still there, it is the muscle in her body that has left. Ever since Bucky and Joana escaped, he'd been helping her regain that muscle that had left her. Days like today, when neither of them were required to be at work until later, they would train and practice. Joana was getting her muscle back and Bucky was still getting bigger. 

And it was during the training that they realized the tension that lay between them. At least, Joana did. 

After they stretched, Bucky and Joana began to spar, as they always did. Sparring was usually light between the two of them, with laughter and sharp wit, but Joana was in no mood for that, which Bucky quickly realized. 

"What's going on with you today?" He asked as she dodged a punch thrown her way. She didn't say anything, but instead she simply continued sparring. Bucky caught her around the neck with his arm and pulled her against his chest as you normally would, but the fact of being so close to him made Joana squirm. 

"Are you good?" He asked her, his breath too close to her ear. With a groan of anger towards herself, Joana hooked her foot around his leg and, breaking his head lock and knocking him to the ground. However, he grabbed hold of her arm and she toppled down with him. She fell atop his chest, being once again closer to his face than she would have liked (or farther from his face than another part of her would have liked). She tried to push herself off of him, but Bucky seemed to have different ideas. 

He grabbed her arm and pulled her back towards him. Joana glared at his lips then shook her head and glared at his eyes. She pushed away from him, standing on her feet and seething. 

"What's up with you today?" Bucky asked her, his voice sharp, as he stood. "You're head's not in the fight. Fighting like this will get you killed." 

Joana charged him, but her attack was obvious so he grabbed her arms and slammed her into the wall. Joana groaned in pain, but she pursed her lips and met his eyes. 

"What's gotten into you?" He asked her. She simply stared at him. "You need to get your head in the fight. Stop acting like a child." 

Neither of them moved. She didn't try to break free of his grip and he didn't let her go. They simply stared at each other. Joana tried to keep her eyes focused on his and no where else. She was acting like a child and she needed to control herself. Control was key. It didn't help when Bucky's gaze wandered from hers and towards her lips. 

"You need to fight with your head, not with your heart," he told her finally, his voice less angry. He let her go and she immediately moved away from him. She walked away from him, towards the other side of the room. With her back to him, she tried to steady her breathing. Her pulse raced. Her skin was on fire. She turned around, hoping to argue, hoping to fight, hoping to find some escape from the strange feelings that lay inside her chest, only to find that Bucky was already crossing the room towards her. She thought he was coming to fight, so she prepared herself, but all he did was back her into the wall. There was no space between her and Bucky, no room to move or run or hide. 

Fear seeped into her, but not in the way that fear usually felt. It was a different kind of fear, a better one, if that was even possible. Bucky pressed his metal hand against the wall by her head and her breath hitched in her throat. She kept her gaze locked with his, unsure of how to breathe with him so close. 

Before she could say anything or make a move to leave, Bucky dipped his head towards hers and met her lips with his own. 

A fire, red and blazing as the sun, caught fire between them. A thousand thunderstorm sparked everywhere they touched. Their hearts were like raging seas, strong and powerful and passionate. 

Joana had her hands in his hair, pulling him closer. Bucky had his hands on her hips, keeping her steady. 

And when they pulled apart for a chance to breathe, Joana realized what had happened and fear grew in her stomach. Her smile faded into a look of fear and Bucky recognized it immediately.  

"Joana, don't-"

Joana pushed him away from her. 

"I shouldn't have done that," she said to herself, her hands shaking. She didn't know why she was so afraid. She didn't know why she wanted to cry. She didn't know why she was trembling. All she knew was that she needed to leave. 

Bucky reached out to grab her wrist, but she evaded him easily. 

"Joana, talk to me," he said, his voice in a low growl. 

"I can't, I can't, I can't," she muttered. She grabbed the set of clothes she wore the day before and rushed towards their tiny bathroom. 

Bucky sat on the couch, waiting for her to come out. He would stop her before she left so they could talk about what happened. His lips tingled where hers had been just previously. He could still feel her body against his...

With a groan, Bucky dropped his face into his hands. He knew he didn't remember Joana, but whatever that happened between them last night and all of this day was right. It felt right. Sleeping beside her felt like the first thing he'd done since escaping HYDRA that was undoubtedly right. 

And now he'd lost her, because he was dumb and immature. He must have done something to her while he was the Soldier, something that he couldn't undo. 

"Damn it!" Bucky slammed his fist into the couch and stood, knocking on the bathroom door. 

"Joana, please talk to me," he said through the door. There was no response. There was no sound at all. "Joana?" 

Bucky opened the door and she was gone. The window above the toilet, which seemed way to small for a human being to fit out of, was open. Joana's workout clothes were on the ground and she was gone. Bucky slammed the door.

When Joana first climbed out the window, she was so far up that the wind was cold and harsh, even though she knew it was warm outside. She started to climb her way down the apartment building. People on the ground looked up at her and gasped, pointing at the crazy lady climbing down a building. For once, Joana didn't care what the people thought of her. She just needed to get out. As soon as she stepped foot on the ground, the awed people froze, most of them staring at her. She looked at them, breathing heavily. 

She turned away from them all and walked briskly down the alleyway. She turned into alley after alley until she found herself in the smallest alley she'd ever seen. She pressed herself against the wall, pushing the back of her hand against her mouth as she fought back sobs. 

What was wrong with her? Why couldn't she just be with Bucky and not feel regret or fear or pain? Why did she have to think about Natalia's feelings even though the woman was probably dead? Why could she not feel Aleksi's hands on her or Pierce's hot breath on her neck? Why did she think it was her fault if Bucky was the one who kissed her?

Maybe she was afraid if she let herself love him freely again she'd get thrown into a cage like she had before. Maybe she was afraid of history repeating itself. Maybe she was afraid that if she loved Bucky again like she used to, he'd leave and she'd be alone again. And she couldn't have that. Not again. Not again. 

Finally pulling herself together, Joana hurried her way to work. She knew she was late, so she brushed past her boss and slipped into the kitchen and started to clean the dishes as if she had been there the entire time. 

This time, the smoke didn't clear her mind, the pain of the hot water didn't keep her focused, the hustle and bustle of the restaurant didn't keep her mind off Bucky. She was shaking and disorganized and slow. Her boss talked to her during her break to tell her to go home. 

"I'm alright, sir," she said, trying to stop herself from shaking. 

"Kegley, you look sick. You need to go home," he told her, standing. "That's my final word."

Groaning inwardly and laying her head on her hands, she fought back tears again. 

No, she wasn't doing this. She wasn't a 12-year-old little girl from Brooklyn anymore. She wasn't Joana Kegley who had a crush on Piper Johnson. She wasn't a puppy and she wasn't a gazelle. She was a soldier. She was a survivor. 

She walked home, her head held high, silently praying that Bucky had gone to work that day so she wouldn't have to face him when she got home. She took the stairs at her apartment building three at a time. She walked into the apartment and froze for a few seconds as she saw Bucky sitting on the couch with his head in his hands. 

She shook her head, and walked past him. Bucky stood as she did so and reached to grab her wrist, but she pulled away as if his touch burned her. She couldn't risk it. She couldn't let him touch her or she'd fall right back into where she was this morning. She couldn't. She couldn't. 

They stared at each other for a solid three minutes before either spoke. They breathed heavily, as if the anger between them was exhausting and breathtaking. 

"Why won't you talk to me?" He asked finally, his voice hard. She crossed her arms. 

"I have nothing to say." 

Bucky laughed. 

"That's a lie. I know you felt something last night. And I know you felt something this morning when you kissed me." 

"You kissed me!" 

"You didn't stop me. And I did it because I felt something and I knew you felt that something, too." He took another step closer to her, and she stepped backwards. 

"Well, I didn't. I didn't feel anything." 

"Why are you lying? What's so important that you're lying to me about this?" She didn't say anything. "Did I do something to you at HYDRA? Did I hurt you? Is that why you're so abrasive?" 

Joana shook her head quickly. He blamed himself for this, for her feelings, for her fear. 

"No, James, no. It's not your fault."

"Then why? Why are you being so..." He waved his hands around, unsure of what word to use. "Why can't you just tell me what' wrong?" 

A spark of anger exploded in her chest, but not at him. She was angry with herself. 

"We knew each other," she blurted. "before HYDRA. We were friends. More than friends. I... I loved you and you died and then you weren't dead but you weren't you and then you fell in love with someone else and I got hurt and I got hurt and I got hurt and we were torn apart from the inside and I just don't want it to happen again."

She didn't know how she managed to say it all in one breath, but she managed. Bucky took another step towards her. 

"Why didn't you tell me?" He asked, his voice laced with pain. 

"Because," Joana choked on emotion. "Because I didn't want to shape your memory with my own perspective of things. If I told you how much I loved you, I didn't want you to think you had to love me back. I didn't want you to not remember Natalia or the other girls that probably existed in the last 70 years. It wasn't my place." 

"Joana-"

"No, no, please, don't. Don't say anything. Just...I'm going to get some milk." Embarrassed of, well, everything, Joana brushed past him, but he reached out and grabbed her wrist, pulling her back towards him. Before she could protest or even think about leaving him again, he pressed his lips against hers for the second time that day. 

A fire red, a thousand storms, a raging sea. A fire like the sun, the howling winds of a thousand storms, the powerful waves of a raging sea. Powerful, dangerous, terrifying. 

"Don't leave," he said as soon as they pulled apart. "Don't leave." 

"I'm not going anywhere," she whispered back, standing on her toes to kiss him again. Bucky pulled her hair out of it's bun, letting the black waves fall down her back. Joana's hands tangled in his hair as his hands pulled her closer by the waist. 

These lips were so familiar to him. Maybe Bucky couldn't remember all the times he had kissed them before, but he knew them all the same. He knew the body beneath him. He knew the smile and the eyes and the hair. He knew the breath on his neck and the tugging hands in his hair. He knew her. He did. Maybe he couldn't remember every second spent with her, but he would trade all those memories he didn't have time and time again if it meant being here with her now. 

He was finally home. 

*****

And another chapter! 

Civil War happens in the next chapter and there will be some reunions that have been a long time in the running as well as some fighting and some angst. I don't know how far I'll get exactly, but probably not past the airport scene. I might not even get to the airport scene cause a lot happens in Germany before that. Idk.

Anyway, schools almost out for Christmas and I can't believe it I'm going to cry. I only have three weeks left and then two weeks of break. I'll hopefully finish the next three chapters I have planned before then. 

After I finish the Civil War canon, I'm going to put this story on complete until Infinity War and then I'll keep updating it afterwards. I can't believe there's only a few chapters left I don't know what I'm going to do with my life after.Ugh. 

I hope you all had a wonderful Thanksgiving and I hope you all have a great 21 days until Star Wars comes out. :)

with thanksgiving, 

authorsbane