From Darkness

It was easier to fall asleep the first night. The trip from Belarus and the events were exhausting enough to knock me out the moment I was horizontal. But I couldn’t find it again. The sleeping bag was wrapped tightly around us, locking us into a cocoon. Bucky’s metal arm was rigid beneath my head, but the rest of him was soft and warm. So when it started to hurt, I didn’t ask him to move.

He fell asleep quickly. I was sure he hadn’t gotten much of it the night before. Now he was in a place where he felt safe and relaxed. I lay there listening to his breathing until I was sure he was asleep. His arm had grown heavier, and his breathing even and calm.

I didn’t sleep, but I dozed. And when I started to drift off, my mind was flooded with images I didn’t want to see. Ivan talking to me in the dark. Reassuring me and telling me everything would be okay. The look on his face the moment I shot him. I could still feel my finger sliding over the trigger—the jolt of force.

My eyes shot open, but I hadn’t jumped, or I would have woken Bucky. He was still sleeping peacefully before me. Probably the most peaceful I’d ever seen him.

I had to do something to take my mind off of it. I moved Bucky’s arm aside so I could slide out of our tangled cocoon of covers and limbs, but his fingers gripped me, and his eyes shot open as if I startled him.

“It’s alright,” I assured him. “I’m just going to the bathroom.”

He nodded and shut his eyes again. His grip loosened, and I climbed out easily, leaving his arm to drop lazily in my place.

The air was cold, and I didn’t want to take the only blanket from him. So I found his shirt to keep me covered while I searched for sweatpants in my backpack. I knelt down and unzipped it, and as soon as I pulled them out, a chain tangled in the drawstring and yanked the rings out onto the floor. I ran my fingers over the gold bands. Beata’s ring was small enough to fit inside Ivan’s. I gripped them in my fist and yanked my pants on. Then I found the coat Dana gave me and walked through the kitchen door that let out onto a small private balcony.

I hadn’t explored it yet. Bucky said it wouldn’t be a good idea since it left us open for sniper fire or prying eyes. But it was dark, and I doubted anyone had caught our trail. It had been a while since I had a breath of fresh air. I needed a moment to think.

The city was alive with light and life. It flickered through windows and down on the streets below. Even though the layout was so different from what I was accustomed to, the sound of the city brought me a sense of peace. It was easy to believe you were forgotten and alone in a world that never stopped moving. The wall around the balcony was tall enough so that when I sat down on the floor, it blocked me from view. I leaned my back against the wall and sighed, breathing in the scents of a city and rain. Then I opened my palm and looked down at the two rings.

I wanted to believe they were together again, but I’d seen the look on Dana’s face when she told me the truth about what happened between them. I didn’t know how far they’d gone or how deep they’d felt, but it was obvious he didn’t belong to Beata anymore. He belonged with Dana. And I was sure Beata would have been okay with it. She would have been happy for them to find happiness with each other. But I’d taken that away from them. Just like I’d taken it from Ivan and Beata.

And there was still a part of me that was angry at them for the life they’d forced me to live. I didn’t ask for it. If Beata and Ivan hadn’t screwed up so monumentally, maybe everyone else could have had normal lives. Dana could have found what she wanted. Love and a family. If they had just followed the rules and not fallen in love in the first place, their families wouldn’t have to suffer the pain of not knowing what happened to their children. I wouldn’t exist, and I didn’t know who’d have been there to help Bucky in my place. I was sure someone would have. Maybe they’d even be able to love him better than I could.

I pulled my knees up and pressed my forehead against them. Then I allowed myself to cry. It wasn’t sorrow for everything I’d lost or even the guilt from causing it. Just anger. That they’d set out the cards, and I was forced to play along. My entire life was decided for me before I ever got a chance to figure out who I was. They were reckless and selfish and destroyed lives just so a kid could live. They’d called it a chance. A chance for what? I still didn’t have an answer to that question. I didn’t know what they’d all died for so willingly.

I was stupid for thinking Bucky wouldn’t hear me. He was already a light sleeper, and when I got up, I should have known some part of his sleeping mind would be listening to his surroundings. I’d left the kitchen door cracked just so he didn’t panic if he woke up and I wasn’t there. So I shouldn’t have been surprised when it opened. But I was. So lost in my own self-misery that I jumped. He was standing in the doorway, wrapped up in the unzipped sleeping bag. He had it over his head like a cape again. Looking almost silly for such a big man.

“I know,” I said, hurrying to wipe the moisture off of my cheeks. “You told me not to come out here.”

“It’s alright,” he told me. “I was just worried.”

“I couldn’t sleep. I just needed—to think, I guess.”

I sniffed and focused on my knees instead of him. I knew he’d make it either better or worse, and I didn’t want him to see me cry again. He pulled the blanket off his shoulder and draped it over me. He was wearing sweatpants too, but no shirt or shoes.

“You look cold,” he said. Then he turned to the door but hesitated to go in. I knew he didn’t want to leave me there alone, but he didn’t want to push.

“Don’t go,” I said. He looked back at me. I got the feeling he was worried about coming off as clingy. I was worried about the same thing, so it was kind of refreshing. He told me he couldn’t remember anyone touching him like I did. I understood the desperation to be touched by someone who would never hurt you intentionally.

“Are you sure? I understand if you need to be alone.” I nodded and pulled the blanket around me.

“I don’t like being alone. They made me—they locked me up—I didn’t—for days.”

I didn’t need to say anything else. He returned to my side and lifted the blanket so he could sit against the wall at my side. Even though it was freezing, he seemed fine. And when he lifted his arm so I could rest against his chest, he was warm enough to take the sharpness from the air. I raised my hand from beneath the blanket and opened my palm to show him the rings. He gently touched them with his metal fingers. He singled out the smaller ring and pushed it out from under Ivan’s. He held it up so that the larger ring slid down the chain.

“You should wear it,” he said.

“Why?” I asked.

“People won’t ask as many questions.” I nodded slowly.

“It doesn’t feel right.”

“I’m sure she left it for you to be worn.” I was pretty sure she hadn’t expected me to wear it to represent a fake marriage with the man who watched her die. I was pretty sure she meant for it to represent a real marriage. One that was unlikely to ever happen.

“Probably not for this exact purpose,” I pointed out.

“Definitely not,” he agreed.

“What if it doesn’t fit?” He shrugged, moving my head on his shoulder.

“We’ll figure it out. But you’re roughly the same age. Same build. Usually. I wouldn’t be surprised if it was a perfect fit.” I wasn’t so sure of that. Mostly because my mom and Clara didn’t have the same build or ring size. I also couldn’t guarantee that it would fit and stay that way because currently, my fingers looked like boney twigs. And they usually didn’t.

“Want to try it?” he asked, sliding the ring up to the clasp.

“I suppose it won’t hurt to try,” I replied.

I unclasped the chain since his hand was around my shoulder. He took the ring as I reattached it. Then he handed it out to me. I was glad he didn’t try to slide it on my finger himself. I wasn’t sure what that would have felt right. So I took it and slid it into place on my left hand. Then I gripped my fingers in a fist and pulled both hands back into the warmth of the blanket.

“How is it?” he asked as I wrapped my arm around him and got comfortable.

“A little loose,” I told him. “But it fits.”