Red, White & Blue | Bucky x Reader

Chapter Two

A few days later, I wake to find Bucky in his usual place at the kitchen table, his notebook spread open in front of him. From the way he's focused on his writing, and the dark patches under his eyes, I can tell that he's been awake for hours.

"Morning," Bucky says, not taking his eyes off the page.

"Good morning," I reply, stretching as I sit up. "Nightmares again?"

Bucky nods once and resumes writing, and I get up from the mattress to walk around behind him, resting my hand on the back of his chair. He leans forward ever so slightly, distancing himself from me.

"Me too..." I assure him, glancing at the notebook to see he's sketching a small image of Captain America's shield. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Taking his silence as a 'no,' I walk over to the stove to put the kettle on, making us both a cup of tea. I place Bucky's mug next to him before taking a seat, sipping my tea in silence as he continues to write.

Bucky's memories started returning shortly after he regained control of his mind, making it difficult for him to keep track of everything. I suggested that he keep a written journal to help him sort through it all, which resulted in a large collection of notebooks.

"Hey," I say, gently nudging his leg with my foot. He looks up, finally giving me his full attention. "Why don't we go out today? We can walk to the farmers' market, get some fresh air. It could help."

"Yeah... Okay," Bucky agrees, thankful for the distraction.

I pull on a pair of jeans and a jacket as Bucky places his notebook on top of the refrigerator, grabbing his own jacket and a pair of dark gloves to hide his metal hand from prying eyes. Settling baseball hats on our heads, we exit the apartment, locking the door behind us before heading down the stairwell.

I breathe in the fresh air as Bucky leads me down the streets, leisurely strolling toward the farmers' market. The sky is overcast, but not gloomy, and a gentle breeze wafts around us. When we get to the main road, I wave to Stefan through the window as we pass the internet café, but he doesn't wave back. Instead, he gives me a tightlipped smile as his eyes slide between me and Bucky.

That's odd. I think to myself. He's usually happy to see me.

The farmers' market is quiet when we arrive, the wide pathway lined with tarp-covered stalls on either side and the vendors conversing with their customers. Bucky leads me toward the fruit stalls and we slowly peruse the crates, finally stopping in front of one filled with plums.

I read somewhere that plums help with memory problems, and since then, Bucky's been buying them every week. His memories have been returning, but whether that's the work of the plums or the variant of Super Soldier serum running through him, we will never know.

Bucky casually chats with the vendor in Romanian as I stand with my back to the stall, keeping an eye out for anyone who seems to recognize us. I catch the gaze of an elderly couple across the way, and they smile at me. However, like Stefan, their expressions are forced.

I turn back to Bucky just as he's receiving the bag of produce, and I loop my arm through his. He tenses under my touch, but doesn't pull away.

"Something feels off," I tell him in hushed tones, leading him out of the market. "I think it might be time to move on again."

Slowly, Bucky lifts his eyes, scanning the area for what I'm sensing.

"You're right," he replies. "We'll get home, grab the bag, and go."

We turn up the street toward the apartment, keep at a leisurely pace to avoid further suspicion. When we get to the crosswalk, I make eye contact with the newsagent across the street, and I quickly look away, pretending to check for traffic. However, when I turn back to the man, I see that he's still watching us.

"Bucky," I whisper, tilting my head toward the man.

"I see him," Bucky whispers back, taking a step forward.

The man slowly steps out of his booth, sprinting away as Bucky and I approach the newsstand, discovering that he was reading a copy of today's paper. Bucky pulls the newspaper toward us, and we see that the front page is covered by a surveillance photo of a man that looks exactly like him.

"What does it say?" I urge him as he quickly scans the article.

"It says the Winter Soldier blew up the United Nations building in Vienna," Bucky replies, tensely glancing around.

I see the fear in his eyes, he thinks he slipped back into his old ways without knowing it.

"That's not possible," I assure him. "You were here with me."

Bucky's eyes lock with mine as he processes my words, and he breathes a small sigh of relief, knowing that I'm right. However, we don't have time to relax, it's only a matter of time before someone reports us to the authorities.

"We need to go," I state, grabbing his arm by the elbow and leading him up the street toward home.