Kara

Can we pretend I was suave and welcomed the ex-assassin super soldier into my home like a normal person?
No? Okay.
What I really did was slam the door on him face. What? I was barely wearing any kind of clothing. I panicked for a few seconds, unsure of how to breathe. I slapped myself in the face (pretty hard I must admit. It really hurt) and opened the door again.
There he was, James Barnes. I hadn't seen him since the airport, but he had plagued my dreams every night since then. He was more handsome than I remembered. His hair was still long, a scruffy beard starting to grow, but he looked a lot less tired, a lot less confused. And a lot scarier up close.
"Are you going to let me in or slam the door on my face again?" He asked.i hadn't realized I was staring until then. I felt my face heat up and I lowered my head. He sure was sassy.
"Yes, um, sorry." I pulled the door open even more and stepped to the side, allowing him to enter. "Come in, please."
I shut the door behind him. He stood right in front of the closed door, unmoving. His eyes scanned my house and I suddenly felt very self conscious about my small house. When he glanced over at me, he wouldn't meet my eye. I rubbed my bare arms, just then remembering that I was hardly wearing anything that classified as clothes, especially for a guy who'd grown up in the 30s.
"Oh," I said, "make yourself at home. I'm going to make myself decent."
I ran towards my room before hearing an answer and pulled whatever clothes were on my floor from yesterday as quickly as possible. I stood in front of my mirror to put my hair up, only to find that I'd put my shirt on backwards. Grumbling, I fixed it, did my hair and ran back out to my living room, only to find that my guest hadn't moved.
"Sorry about that," I mumbled. He finally looked at me, but still not in the eyes. Probably something he had been forced to do while he was under Hydra's 'care'. "Sorry."
"Steve said you were jittery," he said, almost as if it was funny. My ears perked up like I was some dumb dog that just got approval from its new owner. The way he said that wasn't cruel or mean, but like it was a fact.
I stood there awkwardly for a few more seconds, pulling at my long sleeves.
"Do you...ah...do you...would you like some bacon? I mean, if you don't like bacon I'd have to kick you out because people who don't like bacon have no place under my roof. I don't do non-bacon lovers. Oh, gosh, that sounded wrong. I didn't mean 'do', but I meant-" I paused and sucked in a deep breath. Get yourself under control. I straightened and dropped my shaking hands to my side. "Would you like some bacon?"
I almost saw a hint of a smile on his face. He nodded his once.
"Bacon is fine."
My eyes widened and I nodded. At least I could manage one coherent phrase. I still felt like an idiot. I walked passed him into my kitchen.
"Please, sit anywhere you'd like," I said to him. "Make yourself at home."
He strode across my living room in two steps and sat tentatively in one of my small chairs. He looked like a giant compared to my tiny dining table in my minuscule house.
"I can make some eggs and or some pancakes? I mean, most people don't have just bacon. If that's weird, I don't know. I'm not most people," I rambled as I scurried around the kitchen to find the pan I needed. I turned to my guest and his eyes were fixed on a cabinet that was slightly open. My fave went white and I shut it.
"That's, uh, that's-" I didn't have an excuse for the copious amounts of alcohol I had besides the fact that I had a small drinking problem. "Pancakes?"
He shook his head.
"Sorry my chairs are so small, Mr. Barnes...erm...James-"
"It's fine," he said stiffly. "My name is Bucky."
"Right. Sorry. Bucky."
I threw the bacon into the heated pan and listened to it sizzle and pop. A silence fell between us. The seconds stretched through eternity.
I hissed a bubbled of bacon grease popped and landed on my neck. Bucky was out of his seat before I even reacted, asking if I was okay.
"Are you alright?" His hands were clenched and he looked out the large windows, as if something had attacked me. It was terrifyingly beautiful. He was so ready to fight everyone that I felt like connected to me on a spiritual level. I, too, was ready to fight everyone, just less effectively.
"It's alright, Buddy, I'm okay. Just some grease." I found that my brain had started working properly again. "Would you like some coffee?"
He nodded silently as he sat back down.
A few minutes later, I set a plate of bacon and a cup of coffee in front of him. I sat across from him. I picked at my bacon awkwardly.
"Sooo....did you just stop by or..."
"Steve dropped me off," he said, shoveling bacon into his mouth. What were they feeding him in wakanda? Tofu?
"Oh really?" I asked, my voice tightening. He must have noticed because he looked up. "And, uh, did Steve happen to say why?" Bucky shook his head.
"Just that you knew how to help me."
My eyes bulged out of my head and I choked on my bacon. After a quick swig of coffee, I looked back at Bucky.
"What could I possibly help with? I'm no super soldier."
Bucky shrugged.
If he didn't need help physically-
I looked up at the wall, my mouth full of bacon. All I could think of was punching that walking American Flag in the face.
Just because my mom's a psychologist...
"Please excuse me, I need to use the restroom." Bucky dipped his head respectfully. On my way to the bathroom, I swiped my phone off the couch and dialed Natasha's number.
"What?"
"Give the phone to Steve. I know he's with you."
"Geez. Hello to you to."
A second later...
"Hello?"
"What the heck, Steve?" I seethed into the phone.
"What?" He asked defensively.
"Don't 'what' me, Rogers," I said. "I don't know you were thinking, sending Bucky here-"
"Oh he found you? Good. I thought he'd get lost."
"I have no idea what I'm doing," I whispered in super speed to the super soldier.
"I thought since you didn't have connection to any of the Avengery stuff-"
"I don't think that's a word."
"- that you'd be good for him."
"What am I supposed to say? I'm a nurse, not a psychologist. I don't know how to help a soldier with PTSD!"
I wrapped my arm around my stomach, glancing at the door.
"I don't need you to be a doctor, I want you to be his friend."
"I don't know-"
"Just be yourself, Kara. You'll do great."
"Steve-"
"I've gotta go. I've got Avengery stuff to do. I'll pick him up in an hour." He then proceeded to hang up the damnable thing.
"Ste-? Steve?" I growled and slammed my phone on the counter. Before leaving the bathroom, I flushed the toilet to keep up the facade. I found Bucky in the same place, happily (or what I assumed was happily) eating his bacon.
"Everything alright?" He asked as I sat down.
"Mmm-hmm," I hummed with a smile. I watched Bucky eat, going through what I could possibly do to help this man. I didn't know what Steve wanted, or why he chose me of all people. Once he finished his plate, he looked at mine intently, so I pushed it over to him with a half smile. As he ate that, I leaned forward in my chair.
"My mom's a psychologist," I told him. "What did your mom do?"
Bucky swallowed, not looking up at me, but still at the plate of bacon.
"Nothing. She raised me and my sister. My dad did the work."
I nodded and decided to let him eat in peace. He ate incredibly quickly and downed the coffee as if it were just water.
"Do they not feed you in Wakanda?" I asked, trying to incite a laugh. He furrowed his brows. I shook my head. "Never mind."
"What do you do?" He asked me. I was shocked that he initiated a conversation.
"I'm a part time nurse. I also teach high schoolers dance on saturdays. It's not much, but it pays the bills," I said to him. He nodded.
"Honest jobs."
Silence.
"I think we should go for a walk," I said, standing.
"A walk?"
"Yup. I imagine you've spent most of the past 70 years cooped up inside?"
He nodded solemnly.
"That was a dumb thing to say," I mumbled. "But it's nice outside and I thought that we could maybe go for a walk."
He stood.
"That's fine with me."
I took the plates and cup to the kitchen and stuffed them away with the rest of my dirty dishes. I proceeded to grab a sweater and pull it on.
"Will you be cold?" I asked him. He shook his head.
"I am the Winter Solider," he said. I was shocked.
"Was that a joke, Mr Barnes?"
He almost smiled.
"You know, people keep assuming I can't tell jokes after 70 years."
"Steve says you couldn't tell jokes before then either."
"Steve says."
I was amazed. This man had been brooding when he entered my home and after two plates of bacon and a cup of coffee, he was talking up a storm. Maybe he wasn't as damaged as everyone thought. Maybe he did just need a friend who wasn't into fighting and killing. Maybe-
No, I wasn't the solution. I was a variable. That's all.
I opened the door for him and allowed him to step into the brisk air. I wrapped the sweater around myself even further. 
I led him down the stairs and towards the walking path. As we walked, I felt as if I should say something. I just didn't know what. 
"So, uh, what did you and Steve do for fun?" I asked him. Bucky shoved his hands in his pockets and shrugged. "Sorry, that was an insensitive question. Fun doesn't seem to be in Steve's vocabulary anyway." 
Another almost half smile from Bucky. Pride swelled up in my chest. Was I actually making leeway with him? What did Steve think was wrong with him? 
I thought that too soon because just a few steps later, a man ran by. He had a military hair cut, the date 1917 written across his shirt. I thought it must have been some kind of band, but beside me, Bucky doubled over with a hiss of pain. 
"Bucky?" His hands were pressed against his temple. "What's happening?" 
"No," he grumbled, but I had the strange feeling that he wasn't talking to me. I reached out to touch his shoulder and found that it was the worst possible thing I could have done. He must have thought I attacked him, because next thing I knew, I was on the ground, jaw bursting with pain, arms pressed firmly behind my back. Bucky was on top of me, holding me down. I turned my head as far as I could so he could see my face. He looked stoic, as if this was normal. 
"Bucky," I said, my voice strained from my chest being pressed against the ground. "It's just me. It's Kara. I won't hurt you, I promise." 
Ever so slowly, the pressure lifted from my chest. Bucky's stoic face went from confusion and guilt in seconds. He jumped away from me as if my touch was poison. I gasped from breath, pushing myself off the ground. Luckily, after the man passed, no one else had seen what happened. I sat on the ground, breathing heavily, hand covering my pained jaw. Bucky sat across from me, tears in his eyes, hands on either side of his head as if he was trying to squeeze something out. 
"I'm sorry," he said finally. "I didn't mean to..." 
"Don't be sorry." Anger suddenly filled my body, not at the man sitting a few feet away from me, but at the people who had put his brain through a blender and cared nothing of what he would become. "It's not your fault." 
I stood, careful not to go any closer to him for fear of him doing it again. 
"Do you want to go back?" I asked him. He lifted his face from his hands and looked around him, at the tall trees and the green grass and the flowers. Birds chirped and a car passed by on the other side of the bushes. He finally stopped looking around as his eyes landed on me. 
"I hurt you," he said, his voice low and gravely. I shook my head. 
"Nah, it's nothing too bad," I told him, trying to hide the wince of pain as my jaw ached. "I'm fine." 
"You're bleeding." 
I felt a sharp pain beside my eye. I reached up touch the area, only to find that Bucky was right. I was bleeding. I must have scraped my head on the rock path when he pushed me down. Even though I was shocked, I still shrugged. 
"It's nothing, Bucky. Honest. Do you want to keep walking? I can take you back to my house and we can order pizza or watch a movie?" 
Bucky looked up at me in confusion. 
"I just slammed you against the floor, Kara. Why are you still trying to help me?" The sound in his voice was angry, almost accusing. 
"Because I like to help people." Bucky scoffed. "And Steve asked me too. He doesn't think being around him and the Avengers all the time is good for you. Too much fighting, too much death. I agree." There was silence. Bucky hung his head between his legs. I swallowed, unsure of how to address him now. "Do you want to get ice cream? There's a little place not far from here. After that we can go back home." 
He looked up and nodded. I was afraid to get any closer to him, so I let him help himself off the ground. We walked together, a few inches further apart than we had before, as I led him to the ice cream shop. All the way there, we said nothing, but, when we ordered out ice cream, all thoughts of what had happened were gone from my mind and I was busy thinking about the ice cream. 
"My mom used to say 'There are only three things that can mend a broken soul; friends, hugs, and ice cream'." I happily ate the ice cream, while Bucky just looked around the shop. "C'mon, Barnes, you've got to try it at least." 
He seemed startled that I had called him Barnes, but I just shrugged it off. I was surprised how much shrugging I was doing. I knew he was watching the man at the counter. The man had looked at us strangely when we had come inside. With Bucky's strange shirt (one that covered his metal arm but left his fleshy one exposed) and the cut near my eye, we must have looked strange. Bucky didn't seem to like the way the man was watching us. However, he started to eat the ice cream and devoured it in less than 30 seconds. 
"You eat like you've never eaten before," I said, and immediately cringed because I couldn't have said anything more dumb. After 70 years of eating whatever gruel HYDRA gave him, I imagine anything tastes like heaven.
"You don't have to worry about the things you say, Kara," he told me. I smiled sheepishly at him. 
On our way back to my home, Bucky started to talk. 
"Steve and I took an art class in high school. When the war started, we quit to take a kick boxing class." 
"You're an artist?" 
"Oh, no, that was all Steve. I just went to hang out with him. After the kickboxing class, we would stop by this little ice cream place that was on the way to his apartment. My sister, Becka, sometimes joined us. Steve would never admit to it, but I know he had a crush on her for a while." And there it was, the first real smile I had seen on Bucky's face. "That was my favorite thing back in the day. It was one of the first things I would remember before they would wipe me again." And the smile was gone. 
I was starstruck. I didn't quite know how to respond, so I said something, you guessed it, really really stupid. 
"That's the most words I've ever heard you say at once." 
He actually laughed. It was half a laugh, more like a chuckle, but it was a laugh. I was slowly learning that when Steve said he needed help with Bucky, he really meant the Winter Soldier/James Barnes/whoever Bucky became when he thought of the terrible things HYDRA did to him. There was nothing wrong with Bucky. 
I went to bury my face in my hands in shame, but he told me not to, that I should really be less self conscious. 
"You had a sister?" I asked a few steps later. "What was she like?" 
Bucky then started to tell me about his sister. Becka Barnes sounded like the best person anyone could possibly know. I made my heart swell, hearing him talk so highly of his sister. She must have missed him so much. That gave me a thought.
"Have you seen her since you came back?" I asked him suddenly when he paused. He looked at me like I had asked him if he saw an elephant fly. 
"No, I haven't. I don't even know if she's alive."
"I think you should see her."
"She'll hate me."
"For what? Dying then not being dead?" 
He didn't seem to have an answer. 
"See her, Bucky," I implored him with a smile on my face. "I know she would love to see you." 
"She's probably not even alive," he said again, a sad look on his face. 
"If she's anything like you, I bet she's still kicking." 

Later, when Steve came to pick Bucky up, Bucky turned to me. 
"You called me Barnes, back in the ice cream shop." 
"Yes, I did." 
"Why?" 
I laughed, unsure of how to answer. 
"It's a nickname. I'm sure people used to call you Barnes all the time." 
Bucky scowled, as if trying to remember. I smiled and told him, "Friends give each other nicknames."
He snapped his head up to look at me and was about to say something else when Steve appeared on my porch. 
"Looks like your ride is here," I told him, nodding towards his friend. 
I watched Bucky leave with Steve. Once they were in the car (which also had Natasha and Clint in it) and had turned the corner away from my house, I went back inside, a small smile on my face. As soon as I shut the door, I called a friend. 
"Kara! It's great to hear from you." 
"You too, Sarah." 
"What can I do for you?" 
"I need you to find someone for me." 
"Their name?" 
"Barnes. Rebekah Barnes." 

***

I'm so cool I got two chapters done on a school night. Haha. Suck it school. 

I had a good time writing this chapter (again) and hope you rather enjoyed it. I have a plan with where I'm going (sort of) and hope y'all like it. 

I have a plan to add so many more books to this series. KARA, JANE, and ELLA have all been published but I have ideas for two more (for now) called ALEX and one called LENA. All the stories will connect in ALEX because he has this ability to see into separate dimensions. He'll see each of the other stories in the series so there may be some spoilers in ALEX about the other stories (if you can understand his dreams). Anyway, that's all. 

I hope you had a wonderful day and I hope you continue to have wonderful days afterwards

Live happily,
authorsbane