CHAPTER FIVE.
( saving barnes. )

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The trip to Romania was long. Gem knew it would be, but she found herself surprised when the soldier fell asleep in the seat next to her. He didn't entirely look at peace, but his rhythmic breathing told her it was much-needed.

She wondered what that spoke of his trust in her.

Gem felt suddenly mischievous. She reached out to wave a hand in his face. It was purely out of curiosity. Assassin instincts didn't entirely sound real to her, but it would've been cool if he had them.

Still, when the soldier didn't move, she found herself disappointed in his lack of awareness. Not that she really wanted to wake him. She moved to pull her hand away.

Then it was snatched and he was roughly pulling her towards him. Gem gasped and tried to plant her feet, but they slipped. She tried to grab onto something, but only succeeded in veering the plane to the left. Gem tumbled onto the soldier.

His eyes were wild. Gem's heart was beating painfully fast as she shoved herself back. It was no use. James hands went to her neck, speed like lightning. She was weak. She couldn't do anything. He knew that.

  "Don't!" She cried, her voice coming out strained and high-pitched. The fear made her entire body tremble.

  James stilled and realization flooded his features. He shoved her back, knocking her against the controls. The plane veered once more and Gem tumbled right back onto him.

  With the soldier snapped out of whatever rage had taken over, he tried to react rationally. Though, whatever counted for rationality with this assassin seemed somewhat skewed. James took her by the shoulders and pushed her back into her own seat.

  "Fix this!" He shouted, but Gem couldn't tell if it was from anxiety or anger.

  She righted the plane quickly, hands still shaking. The silence afterwards was tense. There were about a dozen different things she felt; guilt and anger. Shame for having clearly made a mistake. Though, the fear was especially potent. It made her stomach knot.

  "I'm sorry," Gem spoke up, hesitant in the off chance that she might set him off again. "I didn't mean to trigger any—"

  "You didn't," he cut in, the words clipped. "It was just... bad timing."

  Gem felt her brow furrow. "Bad timing or... bad dream?" She asked, then realized she was prying. "Sorry, you don't have to answer."

  But, he had borderline-choked her. Again. She would've liked a couple answers— and he gave them, which surprised her.

  "Bad dream," he admitted, eyes distant. He didn't seem entirely there. Or at all like the soldier she had come to vaguely know. "It's always the same. I know I'm free, but I'm always there. Always."

  The way he said 'free' sounded like he didn't entirely believe it. As if someone could take it from him. Make him that weapon again. James Barnes wasn't living with high hopes for his future, that much was clear.

  "It's hard to live with freedom again after you lose it," Gem found herself saying, speaking from some different, distant experience. "The fear of what you can lose again never really leaves."

  James nodded in solemn agreement. "I'm sorry," he said after a moment. "I know I need to control it." His voice told her the obvious; he was angry with himself.

  That unnerved her almost as much as the apology. Gem sighed, touching her bruised neck. She had covered it up with a scarf, in hopes that Mika wouldn't notice. But, it was still there. Still tender.

  And still a reminder of how little power she had.

  "I appreciate the apology," she said, trying to be gentle. "But, forgive me if I don't exactly expect your best behaviour." Whatever had shifted in him left her nervous.

  James seemed different, almost mildly unguarded. It felt safer to expect the soldier to come back swinging. This armour that was peeling away wouldn't come off fully. Not for a long time. She understood that.

  "I get it," he replied. "Just know that whatever I do... it's not me. It's not personal." His voice was mournful, like he truly wanted to believe that this part of him was separate.

Gem felt suddenly irritated. "Isn't it?" She asked. "Who you are now isn't the same as who you were before. That person is gone." Harsh, but what part of it wasn't true?

  She was aware of his eyes on her as she stared out the window ahead. "Whatever remains is what you are, even the ugliest parts," she told him, fingers curling tighter around the controls.

"And it isn't personal?!" Gem laughed outright, suddenly furious with the notion. "You're bigger than me, stronger than me. Every minute I spend with you is a constant reminder of that."

She pulled down the scarf, revealing the bruising, "Every minute I have this will be a reminder of that." Gem tucked the scarf back into place, seething, but trying to reign it back in.

James was silent. A long, tense silence. Something twisted in Gem's stomach. Discomfort or guilt, she couldn't tell.

  "I'm sorry," he finally spoke. "I don't want to be like this." Gem glanced at him and saw that his shoulders were tense and shaking. A subtle tremor, but there nonetheless.

Guilt roared back into her, bringing with it empathy and realization. What he'd done to her was wrong. She didn't have to forgive him or absolve him of that. But, she also couldn't entirely blame him either.

  James Buchanan Barnes was a man tearing at the seams. Unraveling. Violence was all he had known for years, but it could be unlearned. Couldn't it?

He was a gun. The nature of what that meant might never change. The danger might never entirely be eliminated. But, that didn't mean he couldn't learn how to turn the safety back on.

Suddenly, he was standing— but it was more like stumbling as he moved to the back of the plane. Anxiety again, Gem deduced. She gave him a moment, debating, before she finally put the plane on auto-pilot.

  The guilt was gnawing at her— and she was too concerned to blatantly ignore his distress. She moved to sit with him as he nearly collapsed on the floor. Gem watched the way he struggled and found that this was more than an anxiety attack. Whatever this was, whatever he suffered from, it was more severe. Which, by all means, was reasonable given his trauma.

  It also made her wary.

  Regardless, she drew closer. Caution be damned. "Listen to me," Gem instructed, "Focus on what feels tangible. Real. Hold onto it."

  The instruction didn't do much. He let his eyes dart everywhere. Let his hands clutch at his chest, his shirt, the small seats welded to the walls. But, there was nothing that he clung to that provided anything more than overstimulation.

  Gem grabbed at his hand and stilled it. His body seemed to echo the movement. With his chest still heaving, James watched as she turned his calloused palm upwards. Gem began tracing odd lines and shapes among his skin. All while whispering gentle instruction to 'breathe easy, breathe slow.'

  James listened. He followed the tracing of her fingers, the feel of the shapes and the contact. It didn't take long for his breaths to slow. He was still shaking, body still reacting to some nervous stimulation.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have gotten angry with you," she whispered, unsure of why she felt the need to explain. "I know it's hard, but you do scare me. I'm not used to being..."

"Powerless?" He offered, but his eyes were only on her hand. Still focused on the patterns.

Gem nodded, but the confession left discomfort curling inside her. "When they gave me these powers, I thought I could do anything. That I was unstoppable."

  She tried not to choke on her anger, "I thought that no one would ever be able to hurt me again." A stupid idea. There were a thousand ways to hurt someone that required no physical wound. Gem knew that.

  Still, it had been nice to feel invincible during a time where she was anything but.

  James' hand wrapped around hers, ceasing her tracing. "They won't," he promised, but even he sounded unsure, and his comfort unnerved her.

  Gem couldn't bring herself to meet his gaze, but she didn't immediately pull away. "I knew they would come after me," she told him. "I just didn't think it would be you."

  "I'm not going to hurt you again," he said, pulling his hand back. The resolve in his voice was the soldier returning. "You've risked enough for me. I'll find a way to repay you."

  Gem couldn't help her snark, "Let's not pretend it was willingly. All I ask is that I don't get dragged into anything else." Which, was still a very possible outcome.

  "Whatever your reason, I owe you," he replied, taking her attitude with ease. "And... no more harm will come to you while you're with me." He got up then, moving further into the plane, where the makeshift beds were.

  Gem didn't like the sound of his promises. She knew any expectation of him would likely end in disappointment. But, the way he spoke made her wonder. With a promise like that, which part of him would actually follow through? The soldier, or that torn-apart man?

  The Halloway woman decided it didn't matter. A couple more hours and this flight would be over. This uneven alliance would end and she could go home.

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   Gem found herself nervous when the plane landed in Otopeni. It was nighttime and they went slowly through the motions of leaving the airport. The documents all worked. Not that she expected anything less. It hadn't taken much effort on her part to work out getting new ones made for James.

  However, the uneasiness of what they were doing was finally beginning to set in. Gem was suddenly unsure of herself. What would happen if she was called on while out of the country? She didn't want to imagine the kind of questions that would ensue.

  Gem reassured herself that no one would imagine the assassin was with her. Sure, she'd been a double-agent, but her loyalties had begun with S.H.I.E.L.D. and they would remain that way. It was too bad Fury wasn't there to vouch for her... the faking-his-own-death thing had made ensuring her freedom much harder to manage.

Regardless, Gem tried to take the process with ease. When all was said and done, they took a taxi to the train station and left the airport behind. The terminal had been large, but Bucharest as a whole was overwhelming. Gem took in the sights with awe. She had never been to Romania before.

James himself looked almost at ease here. He was still tense and silent, that soldier part of him never quite letting up. But, there was something to the city's largeness that seemed to settle their nerves.

Gem was aware of the way he avoided her eyes once they were on the train. That moment back on the plane had left them both uneasy. Still, they had plans to run through.

"I could get you a hotel," she started to say, "I have two weeks before I head back to America, so I could just stay in another—"

"No," he cut in.

Gem gauged his reaction carefully. He was clearly trying to resist scaring her. But, that soldier part of him was weighing her words. Working through the possibilities of betrayal. Gem swallowed her irritation, only because she would have done the exact same.

"If you have to wait, you do it with me. If you get a call, you answer it while I'm there. I'm not letting you out of my sight," he told her.

  Gem felt her heart stutter in her chest. His voice was low, eyes narrowed as he watched her. A month. She would have to stay with him for a month. How the fuck was she going to survive that?

  "So, what?" She asked, stumbling over her thoughts. "We just stay in the same hotel together? Separate rooms?" Gem shifted in her seat, nervous with the idea that he might want to stay in the same room.

  "Separate rooms," he agreed. "When the month is over, you can leave." James paused then, pondering something.

  When he looked at her again, his eyes were jarring. "If you tell anyone about me when you return, I'll know." He didn't even have to utter the threat. It was there, in his tone.

  Gem was suddenly angry again, her better alternative to fear. "You said you wouldn't hurt me," she snapped, trying to hold his gaze.

  James didn't waver. "I won't, as long as you keep me safe. Don't mistake what happened on the plane for kindness. If you betray me, I'll find you."

  She was furious now. Gem got up and left their seats on the train. The soldier didn't stop her, he didn't even look at her. Something about that pissed her off even more.

  After everything she had done for him, this was how he continued to repay her. She could deal with a mild sense of wariness, but the constant and open suspicion was irritating. Grating in a way she didn't fully understand.

  Gem had risked so much to help him and she'd done it willingly. A little trust was owed. She'd spent so much time sacrificing things for everyone else and it still wasn't enough.

  It was never enough.

  So consumed by the rage, Gem hardly noticed the flicker of the lights. What she did notice was the stutter of the trains movement. The hum on her skin. The way her entire body felt like a live-wire.

  She was losing control— and it had taken her too long to realize it.

Gem wasn't the only one who noticed either. She felt someone grip at her arm, tugging her into an empty compartment. It was James, looking furious. The rage returned for Gem, who tried to keep it under control for the sake of safe travels.

"What do you think you're doing?" He demanded, stepping close. "Don't even think about trying anything."

Gem shoved at him, hating his mistrust. "I'm not doing this on purpose," she seethed. Her skin was still simmering, almost overwhelming but not quite. Nothing about it was painful— in fact, it was amazing.

It was like being alive.

"I can't control it," Gem admitted, wincing as her focus waned. It wanted to absorb all it could; from the train, from the power poles that went racing by. It wanted anything and everything.

Another surge of energy hit her, staggering. The train stuttered again and Gem stumbled into James, who caught her with little grace. His expression was wary, but she hardly cared. Gem was getting lost in the energy and the way it moved her.

Zap.

James cursed and moved back from her. Gem's focus became clearer as she realized what she'd done. She was shocking him. It had happened only a handful of times before. It didn't always end well. Sometimes, people wound up hurt.

Gem stepped back, trying to cut the energy from her with sheer will. It didn't work. She'd drawn on too much of it already. She went to the floor, kneeling as the electricity called again. Gem was a conductor that couldn't resist.

This time the train did more than stutter. There were cries from the other compartments as the train came to a rocky halt. The lights went out, then on, and out again.

  "Gem, you have to stop this!"

  She couldn't hear him, overwhelmed by static in her ears. Her only coherent thought was that he'd said her name. Their exchanges had been so short, he never had a chance to say it. Gem thought it sounded nice and she smiled, struck with that wonderful power once more.

  Then he was roughly taking her face in his hands. That snapped her out of it. "Control it!" He shouted, unconcerned with attracting attention. It was likely no one cared in all the commotion, anyway.

  Gem shook her head, hearing zaps where his hands held her face. The metal arm only made things worse. James expression was pained the entire time, clearly uncomfortable. He still held her.

  "I have nowhere to put it," she spoke softly, "There's too much metal around to expel it."

  "Then put it back where it came from," he spoke quickly. There was distress on his face now too. In his voice. Panic was rising all around them, with people getting out of their compartments in curiosity. Though, no one was paying attention to them.

  Closing her eyes, Gem did the opposite of what she usually tried to do; ignore it all. Push it down. She searched for the source of the power. The low simmering of the train's electrical source. The wires of the poles following along the train tracks.

  Zap.

  "Focus," James hissed, hands still on her face. He wasn't pulling away. He seemed intent on seeing her through. Oddly enough, it comforted Gem as she opened her eyes.

  She held onto the feel of those sources a little stronger and then— she let it go.

  The electricity inside her must have doubled, because it was too powerful for the train and the wires to hold. Screams sounded as light exploded all around them. Fixtures popped and burst. Outside, the lines sparked with the surge.

  Gem gasped as the energy left her, suddenly weak. James hands went to her shoulders to keep her steady. She wondered what he saw when he looked at her, with his eyes curious and awed.

Then he frowned. "If you can't control it, you shouldn't be using it." His voice was stern, almost reprimanding.

  Irritated, Gem shrugged his hands off her. Above them, the light fixture sparked again. "It just happens, maybe next time don't piss me off," she sneered back.

  He ignored the remark. "Let's get back to our seats, before we attract any attention."

  Gem didn't exactly want to be in that small space with him again, but reluctantly followed anyway. They made it back to their seats just in time for workers to check in on passengers. Gem was casual as she told them they were fine and they moved on fairly quickly. She supposed it seemed more like an odd accident rather than an intended act.

It didn't take long afterwards for the train to start moving. James was silent, his eyes closed as he rested back against his seat. He wasn't sleeping.

"Why do people call you Bucky?" She found herself asking, too restless to resist pestering. Gem had only ever heard Steve call him Bucky, but it was such a curious nickname.

James pinned her with a look. He clearly didn't enjoy the idea of being questioned. "Why do people call you Gem?" He returned, deflecting easily.

Gem frowned. "Because it's my name," she deadpanned.

"It's not short for anything?"

"What would it be short for? It's just Gem— and you didn't answer my question," she said, quickly catching on. He was distracting her.

James sighed, "It's a nickname people got from Buchanan. I think." He added the last part un-surely. She realized his memories were likely a mess of confusion.

"Do you want me to call you Bucky?" She asked, trying to avoid questions that might trigger him. She didn't really want to make conversation, but it was better than sitting in silence. Talking eased her resentment of him, too.

He thought it over for a moment. "No," he finally said, "No one's ever really called me James, but I don't mind it when you do."

Gem couldn't help herself, "Wow, next thing you know we'll be braiding each other's hair and making friendship bracelets."

Gem saw it. She swore she saw it; the smallest inkling of a smile. It stunned her, but it was gone just as fast. She doubted she would forget it anytime soon.

"Gemma," was all James said.

She frowned. "What?"

"Gem could be short for Gemma," he explained. She rolled her eyes.

"That's a ridiculous name." Gem thought hers was perfectly fine as it was. Why add anything onto it?

"Gemima?" He offered and, though he wasn't smiling, there was a sardonic humour to his tone. He was mocking her, she realized.

She scowled, "Go back to fake sleeping."

  He did and the rest of the ride was spent in silence. Gem wasn't entirely sure of their odd exchanges. They certainly weren't friends. He was always on guard, always suspicious of her.

  But, she noticed there was an easy way of speaking with him. Brief moments between his vulnerability and trained mannerisms. Gem couldn't tell if it came from a comfort he felt with her, or if it was simply a result of his confusion. The man of the past and the soldier warring inside him.

  Gem didn't want to dwell on it too much. Once she got to the hotel, it would be a room-service vacation for the books. She was going to enjoy every last minute of it, regardless of the fact that she was harbouring a fugitive.

  That was a secret only two people needed to know. If either one couldn't keep it? They would be dead before anyone found out.

  And Gem was determined not to die.

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