A Birdie Lost in Time | Bucky Barnes

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Doctor Green was on edge on day ten.

When she came into the room that morning, Marlow had presented her arm expectantly, and it was only after prodding with some questions, that she explained that every ten days she would be given an injection, and that day was day ten.

Doctor Green immediately drew blood samples, sending it with her lab techs to do analysis while she checked over Marlow's injuries with an anxiousness that Bucky had never seen before.

When the techs returned a half hour later, passing the doctor a paper with a mess of letters and numbers, he hoped he would see her shoulders relax. But she only nodded, fingers tapping the back of the clip board before letting out a puff of air. A few minutes later, she was in the room across the hall with him, Steve, and Sam, air thick as they waited for her to explain.

"The blood samples are showing that the compound in her body has reached its half-life, meaning if there's a point that any withdrawal symptoms would begin, it's now," she explained.

They could only nod, preparing themselves for the inevitable and trying to keep themselves from spiraling into what ifs.

Somehow, the day passed without incident, with Doctor Green stopping in every hour while Steve and Sam stayed in the room opposite, wanting to be near in case anything happened. Then, as Bucky convinced them to head back to their rooms to sleep and he sat unable to focus on his book, the night passed without incident.

When morning came around and still nothing had changed, Bucky was finally able to take a breath.

Sam and Steve said they'd take a break from their scavenged duties around the base to watch over her, but he was only gone long enough to jump in the shower, scrape off the mess of a beard he'd grown, and catch a few hours sleep before he resumed his post.

Then as afternoon turned to evening and then to night, and there was still no change in Marlow's vitals, he was able to settle into his book.

⁂

The next morning, the girl awoke to find the Soldat asleep, a book resting on his chest.

She'd seen him with it the last couple days, although he seemed to bend and wring it more than read it.

She noticed he read often—if the changing books he'd carried were anything to go by...

He never did that before.

No... maybe he had.

She'd seen him reading schematics and mission plans, flipping through manila folders, or examining maps, but she also thought that she'd seen him with books like the one sitting atop him now.

She wondered if their next mission was written inside... She couldn't make out what was on the cover from her spot on the bed, but surely it had to be something important.

Maybe it was some type of manual, like she'd seen the engineers flip through as they worked around her. Those books looked similar; small and thick, with worn edges and finely printed words.

Not that she'd ever read one. She'd never even held one. But she'd catch glimpses of the words, at first illegible to her until she was brought in for language sessions. Though, the book on the Soldat's chest didn't look to be in Russian—but that made sense; they were in America now.

As she wondered, staring at the book, she found herself standing up, ignoring the slight ache in her leg as she made her way silently across the room. The closer she got, the clearer the embossed title became.