You're My Mission

After staking out Agent Carter’s residence, we deduced that no one was surveilling it and we made our move during the evening. She was on the third floor of the elderly care building, an area that was thankfully deserted during the night as the patients there were practically immobile. I picked the lock of the back door, then crept through the unoccupied kitchen to the stairwell. Bucky followed my lead, and occasionally his toes bumped into my heels, proving that he was truly shadowing my footsteps and that he was uneasy about the situation.

After peeking through the windows of a couple of doors, I spotted a woman who resembled the young beauty in the framed picture at the Smithsonian. Straightening up, I pushed open the door and invaded the elderly woman’s private room as she watched TV before dozing off for the night.

“Who are you? What do you want?” she questioned in a voice so fragile because of her age, but it still held authority.

“We’re not here to hurt you, Agent. We just need your help,” I explained in the most soothing tone I could manage. I was surprised at how well it ended up coming out, as I thought I had lost that skill after being inside Hydra for so long and acting so violent. Peggy’s gaze shifted to Bucky as he cautiously stepped forward, coming out from behind me and into the dim light.

“James?” Peggy breathed in a faint voice that I struggled to hear. At the sound of his name I noticed that Bucky stiffened, but warmth was spreading across his face as he stared at the old woman, making his strong posture less threatening. “How- I thought… Steve thought…”

“It’s really me,” Bucky confirmed. I heard the hint of doubt in his voice and pitied him for still being uncertain of who he was.

“You came to me to find Steve,” Peggy said as though she had read our minds. Bucky nodded and Peggy’s lips curled upwards. “You’re welcome to stay here. He should be in first thing in the morning.”

“Oh, that’s nice of you but-” I began as Peggy turned her head to face me, smiling.

“Steve always visits on Tuesdays,” she said.

“We have a place to stay, and it’s best we don’t get caught,” I justified. A second later and there was a grip on my arm. I looked up to see Bucky glaring at me.

“It’s raining,” he stated. I took a moment to stare deep into his eyes, searching for the hidden message. He was scared. He was frightened that the water was going to make his arm worse, and I still hadn’t taken a look at it.

“We’ll stay in the common area while you sleep. No one checks this wing during the night, do they?” I asked.

“No. Do be sure to look at the fish tank, there are some wonderful creatures in there,” Peggy suggested. I gave her a polite smile before ushering Bucky out of the room.

We crept down the corridor until we found the deserted lounge, a decent space that I wouldn’t have minded resting in if it didn’t have the weird smell combination of musty and bleach. Bucky found a comfortable armchair by the window to watch the rain from, and after looking at the tropical fish tank, I pulled up a hard dining chair in front of him and caught his attention.

“Take your shirt and gloves off,” I ordered and his eyes dropped to the floor, clearly hesitant and concerned. “I can’t check for water damage with that jacket on.” After a few seconds of thinking it over, Bucky became convinced and pulled the items of clothing from his body, revealing his robotic arm that glinted in the moonlight from the window. The glow from the fish tank also helped provide light, so I felt confident enough to take a quick look.

Except I had no idea where to begin. There were a million different sheets of silver that constructed his left arm, all the way down to fingers that appeared as though they could give the most delicate of touches as well as squeeze the life from you.

“Do you know how to… open it?” I questioned and Bucky reached over with his arm of flesh, pushing and pulling at a couple of the panes on his bicep. After a click, a segment came loose and revealed some circuitry. I leaned forwards and peered inside, using my basic knowledge of electronics to deduce that nothing had become detached or permanently damaged in his incredibly complex robotic arm.

“How is it?” Bucky asked hoarsely.

“Well, I can’t see anything wrong from here, but I’ve never looked at something like this before,” I replied, seeing no reason to be dishonest with him.

My gaze trailed away from the metal and rested on his bare torso for a few moments, admiring how defined his muscles were. A part of me wanted to know what exercises he did to achieve such good physique, and another part of me was stunned at how alluring he was. I snapped out of it as Bucky clicked the sheets back into place and flexed his arm to test they were secure.

“You don’t need immediate attention. The only person I can think of who is talented enough to help is Stark. I’ve got no idea what’s happened to the SHIELD techs…”

“Maybe Steve will know someone,” Bucky added. I was glad to hear that he had some hope and flicked him a smile, but my line of sight soon dropped and rested on his metal arm. “People will never accept this, will they?” I quickly looked up to meet his eyes, realising that I had been rudely staring, and noticed that his chest had caved in a little and his muscles tensed from the insecurity I had accidentally given him.

“The people who matter will accept it, they’ll accept all of you,” I promised, knowing that it wouldn’t make a difference to Steve. Surely he’d be more concerned about having his friend back. “I’m going to try to get some sleep.”

“I’ll take the first watch,” he commented as I stood. I paused and smirked.

“At a retirement village? I think we’re good,” I said with a chuckle. Bucky had gone back to staring out the window so I found a cushion that didn’t smell too strange and got as comfortable as possible on a hard couch.

“Jennifer?” Bucky asked lowly as I was beginning to doze off. I wasn’t even the slightest annoyed that he had made me stir as he had spoken my name so softly it came out with a touch of sweetness.

“Yeah?”

“Does my arm bother you?” he asked and I opened my eyes. He was staring at me from his armchair by the window, still shirtless, and I could make out his creased brow and woeful blue eyes.

“No. It never did.”