From Darkness

“Something’s wrong,” I said as I followed Russell toward the sound of gunfire. It was quiet in the alley we’d chosen. When the first blast went off, he’d pulled me in the opposite direction, shouting orders to the others and having us scatter like roaches. But not me. He’d pulled me with him, and my order was to stay at his side, despite how much more useful I’d be with the others.

“Just follow my orders, Hayes,” he responded. He kept his eyes on the end of the alley, watching and waiting for someone to appear and possibly kill us.

“No, I don’t mean—it’s not fear. Something is wrong. Call it—intuition.” He turned back around to face me as he studied my face with dark brown eyes. He always told me to trust my gut because sometimes my mind could pick up on things I hadn’t processed yet.

“What is it?” he asked. I took a few deep breaths. The gunfire stopped. But only for a moment.

“I think we’re being led into a trap,” I explained.

“Why?”

“When does Hydra ever threaten to bomb a school? It doesn’t fit their MO.”

“Exactly, Hayes. I think we already established that it’s a trap.” I shook my head, the weight of my helmet shifted on my sweating head.

“No, I mean—we’re being—herded.” He studied me again.

“Why do you think that?”

“Gunfire is active, but we’ve had no casualties on either side that we know of. We’ve still got everyone on coms. They’re trying to draw us to the courtyard on purpose.”

“Why would they draw us into the courtyard?”

“Because we’ll be out in the open.” His eyes immediately cut to the roofs overhead.

“Of course,” he whispered. “They’re on the rooftops.” He turned and went to the coms, telling our team to stay out of the courtyard and stick to the alleys. I heard footsteps pounding on the stones behind me. I jumped and spun, but it was only Tran.

“Captain,” he said, approaching.

But he never finished his sentence. The bullet hit with a zip. The light behind his eyes died the moment it hit his face. His body dropped to the pavement with a sickening thud, and all I could do was take a step back. His blood had splattered my face.

“Shit,” Russell said, putting a hand on my shoulder and shoving me into the wall. A bomb went off on the next street and made the road shake beneath my feet. The next thing I knew, Russell had his hand over my mouth. I didn’t even realize I’d made a noise at all. It happened so fast, and the sound came out of me so quickly that I didn’t even know it was me. “Quiet, Hayes,” he snapped, pulling me away from Tran’s now lifeless body. I couldn’t keep my eyes off him. Just a moment ago, he had something to tell Russell. Just that morning, he was telling me a story about his newborn twin sons. Now he was lying in an alley in Sokovia, bleeding from the gaping hole in his forehead.

“I-I don’t understand,” I said. Panic washed over me in waves.

“A normal sniper couldn’t make a shot like that,” he said, shoving me behind a dumpster and forcing Tran’s body out of sight. But I could still smell blood and sulfur in the air. My hands were shaking. I was terrified.

“What do you mean?” I stammered as Russell peeked out of our hiding place and onto the roofs above.

“He’s here. The Soldier. You remember everything I told you?”

“Of course I remember. I’ll do what I have to do. If it comes to that.” He turned back and gave me a quick, forced smile.

“That’s my girl,” he said. Then he bolted across the alley.

I jumped up, scrambling through the tangled sheets. In my panic, I’d spun and kicked my legs as if I was back in that alley, watching one of my closest friends die right before my eyes. But I caught sight of the window, illuminated by moonlight, and the outline of the man sitting in the chair beside it. He was leaning against the back of the seat, arms out, head dipped as he stared into the darkness.

It took a minute for it to fade. I was in Belarus. With Bucky. I was okay. We were okay. My breathing was harsh, and he didn’t even seem to notice I’d woken up. I couldn’t have been quiet about it. But he didn’t shift or blink.

“Bucky?” I asked, and something finally broke through the haze in his mind. His attention broke, and he looked at me like he didn’t even notice I was awake. His expression went from dark and intense to warm in an instant.

“Are you okay?” he asked. I nodded slowly. I didn’t feel okay, but that’s not what he asked. I was okay. “I have them too.” Then he went back to staring into the shadows. I crawled to the edge of the bed. The cold air and icy floor made it easier to fight through the haziness.

“Did you have a nightmare?” He looked briefly amused, but then his jaw clenched, and he put the mask back on.

“Something like that.”

I gripped the edges of the mattress and sighed as the last of the darkness washed away. The image of Tran’s face was still fresh in my mind, and I knew that I was sitting there with the man who’d pulled the trigger. But the connection didn’t want to stick. It wasn’t Bucky. Not MY Bucky anyway.

I knew if he was anything like me, he’d probably want to be alone after whatever his subconscious churned up in his mind. I didn’t want to talk either. I wanted to go downstairs and check on Russell or find a task to keep my mind busy. Maybe I could bring treats to the goats to make them like me like they did him. But I couldn’t move from my spot.

And maybe that was the whole reason it was so easy for us to fall into something. We were more alike than I’d initially thought. Spent so much of our lives alone and guarded that we didn’t know how to connect or reach out to anyone who hadn’t lived the same way. We were both broken and if it had been only one of us, we wouldn’t have found the peace we found with each other. Because that’s what it all came down to. Without all the romantic and sexual feelings. It was just a connection. I remembered the way I felt the first night he’d spent in my bed. It was the first time I ever felt like I’d been truly intimate with someone. And I hardly knew him then. He obviously wasn’t the first man I’d gone to bed with. But he was the first to really understand me. To see me for who I really was. There was a vulnerability in what we’d done that night. Trust. And it created something beautifully intimate.

“What did you see?” I asked after a while. He didn’t answer for a long time. His expression had gone back to being dark and intense. Like the Soldier who’d stalked the rooftops of that small Sokovian village. But when his lips parted, I knew I wasn’t looking at the Winter Soldier, just the image of him that still existed inside the man before me.

“Something that happened a long time ago,” he said. “After I fell from the train.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” He shook his head.

“I don’t know if you’d want to hear it.”

“You can tell me.” He took a deep breath and picked at the arm of the chair.

“I uh,” he started, “the machine they used on me was a newer invention. They didn’t try to brainwash me. Not at first. They had other ways to make me comply. They made me believe Steve had gone rogue. Made me think I was still on the right side. Kind of like what they did with you. Made me go against him over and over until I killed him just to make it stop.”

“Is that what you saw?” He shook his head.

“No. It didn’t always work. I started to catch onto them. Kept fighting it.”

“What’d they do?” He tapped his fingers a few more times.

“They brought me a dog,” he said. “More like a wolf, really. A big white beast that was so feral and mean, they wouldn’t even let it go without a muzzle. They told me that—if I could train him. Get him under control, I wouldn’t have to fight Steve anymore. But every time I misbehaved, the dog would pay the price. So I focused all of my time and effort on training that dog. He was…,” he paused, “my friend.” I shut my eyes. I didn’t like where this was going.

“What happened?” I asked anyway.

“They came through on their promise. I woke up from a mission—and I must have—stepped out of line, but I don’t remember what I did. My cell was just—covered in blood. Scratches. Bites. The dog was still breathing. But barely. I tried to go to him, and he flinched. Because whatever they made me see—I took it out on him.”

“I’m so sorry, Bucky.”

“He died in my arms. I didn’t have a scratch on me. He didn’t even fight back. He just tried to get away. It took him a while to learn to trust me. And then I hurt him.”

“What did you do?”

“I broke his neck so he wouldn’t have to suffer anymore. I stopped fighting after that. Until I forgot that too anyway."

“Bucky—I’m so sorry.” He didn’t say anything for a minute.

“Your turn,” he finally said. “What’d you see?” I didn’t think he’d want to know. I certainly didn’t want to tell him after the story he’d just shared.

“Sokovia,” I admitted. “Like always.” That was all I could get out, and he seemed to understand. He gave a short nod, though his eyes were still far away.

I still felt like I should let him be alone. Maybe I’d just hit the ground running and never look back. But then again—maybe I’d just get to the end of the property and sit there among the trees for a while. Wander the woods without a goal. I knew I couldn’t. Not just because he would follow me but because I thought he might need to feel me as badly as I needed to feel him.

So I stood and walked over to him. He had his legs open wide, leaning back in the chair. I took my place between them and held his hands in mine, testing to see if he even wanted me there. He responded exactly as I hoped he would. He gripped my fingers and leaned forward so that I could press my forehead against his. I didn’t need to kiss him. It wasn’t that kind of connection. I just needed to feel him, and he needed to know that I was there for him too. His hand slid around my back, so I nudged his legs with my knees and slid into place on his lap. My arms wrapped around him, and I rested my head on his shoulder.

Both his arms came around me, and he sat back. His head came to rest on mine, and then we didn’t move again. It didn’t matter that it was cold and the chair was probably too small for both of us. But we didn’t speak, and we didn’t need to. We stayed where we were, content with the silence and the peace that came with not having any goals.

When the light began to grow outside of the window, he finally spoke.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he said in a hushed voice as if we’d be overheard. “I thought I lost you for good this time.”

I didn’t say anything because that was precisely how I felt. I moved my hand to his chest and spread my fingers out over his skin. I liked the way his heart beat against my palm. I liked when he knew I was feeling for it. He didn’t seem to expect a response, and I couldn’t find one to give him. We were both okay with just watching the sunrise in silence.