1|Memories ♛ Bucky Barnes ✔️

Chapter 11

"No need." I say, my voice cracking making both Sofie and Bucky look over to me.

"What the fuck." Sofie whispers, standing up and walking closer to me.

"I'm done with the arm by the way." She says as she moves her hand over my leg, pointing with her other hand to a sheet of paper with something that looks like a small green card on it.

"Is that it?" Bucky asks, and picks it up with his hand.

"Yeah, just wait a minute and i'll put back the arm thingy" she answers, still poking at my leg.

After awhile of just looking and poking at me she finally gets up and fix the last detail on the arm, then kicking us out of her house, before anyone can track us there.

As we are sneaking down the road of my neighborhood , careful to not get caught on any cameras, i remember the perfect place to hide until everything calms down.

After throwing the tracker in the lake, we go to mine and Sofie's number on play spot when we were smaller.

It's an abandoned house at the end of the street.

Only with one room that is both the kitchen and bedroom.

We used to play there all the time, pretending we lived alone.

Bucky doesn't question anything when we step in the small house on the street with huge luxury houses, since you ca clearly see it is old and not built with everything else.

I throw my bag on the floor and glide down the wall, collapsing on the floor in exhaustion, seeing Bucky sit down on the mattress in front of me.

*

We sit on opposite sides of the room, looking at each other, waiting for someone to say something, anything really.

"What were you going to ask before? You know when Sofie was at my house?" I decide to break the silence first.

He lets out a small laugh, thinking back to when we had a huge house to ourselves, now we only had this one room and a small bathroom.

"I was going to ask if i could use your gym." He admits, making me laugh with him.

It wasn't a real laugh, i know his wasn't either, but i didn't want to cry either, feeling like it made me week.

"So what now?" He questions, feeling like i had heard that question before one hundred times.

"I don't know, it's not like we can leave this place." I admit, having no idea how the hell we were supposed to get out of this place.

"We can talk, get to know each other more." He suggests, making me nod.

I raise my hand to him in a gesture to make him go first.

"Favorite color?" He decides to ask.

"Blue" I answer without hesitation.

"Why?" He asks, if i would have known he would ask why i would have never answered truthfully.

"It's the color of your eyes." I admit, making him look me in the eyes.

"What about you?" I ask back.

"Cyan" He says immediately.

"Why?" i ask, copying him.

"it's your eye color." He answers back, making my heart rate speed up.

"I don't even know what to ask anymore." He admits, his lips turning up into a small smile.

"We can talk about your memories." I suggest, smiling lightly back.

He looks hesitant, and starts to fiddle with his fingers, but nods anyways and waits for me to ask something.

"What do you know?" I start with.

"My name, and i can remember my family, but not the details." he answers.

"What about Steve?" I go with, figuring it is an easy subject.

"I remember him the best. I met him in school when i saved him from some bullies, stuck together ever since." He says, his eyes distant, like he is thinking back.

"Do you know what happened to him?" I say, curious to know.

"No, but I'm guessing he isn't around anymore." He admits, his eyes brimming with tears.

"He died saving millions of people, Barnes. He is and will always be a hero." I say, trying to cheer him up.

"He always was to me." He smiles again, happy to know Steve didn't die in vain.

"I remember how he always got into fights with guys twice the size of him, and he never backed out. Ever." He started saying, his eyes lighting up talking about his old best friend.

"It must have been amazing being friends with captain America." I say, getting into his way of speaking so happily about him.

"He was never captain America to me, just Steve, the little guy from Brooklyn. But he was still always a hero, that will never change." He says.

I sigh and crawl over to him, sitting down beside him on the mattress and putting my head on his shoulder, closing my eyes.

"I feel so broken." He confesses, making my heart ache.

"Then let me fix you." i suggest.

"You already are" I hear him whisper

I feel his head on mine and even though we are in a crappy room with nowhere to go, i feel like i am home.