Path to Protection (BuckyBarnes x OC)

Keeping the Peace

    A/N 

    Up until this point, I haven't really had a clear view of what I imagined Willow to look like, although I always viewed her as a light-haired brunette with hazel eyes and a powerful, but sweet face. After browsing about women in WW2 I found this picture of a woman in the US Air Force and although Willow is clearly not Air Force, I think this is exactly what I imagined her to be. Of course, you can continue to view Willow as you'd like for the rest of the story, this is just my opinion :) 

    Enjoy! 

     After moderate configuration, I was able to bring the train and all that was on it out of the Alpine mountains and out in the open. I only stopped when a town was in sight. Syncing with Jim's radio waves, Gabe was able to forward Steve's order to regroup there.

     Although I was fulfilling orders, my chest felt hollow, as if my heart was ripped straight from my ribcage. In a way, it was, and it fell in that precipice, never to be seen or found again. When we were met with the rest of the Commandos, retelling the story only reopened the wounds. Although the grief must've been the toughest on Steve and me, the others weren't much cheerier, either. Dugan consoled me with a chance of sending a search party there, but it did little to calm me. In spite of everything, our lives had to go on, no matter how much I wanted mine to end at the same moment as his did. I feared for my future. With James gone, who would help me raise and take care of the baby? With all I'd done in the past two months, was it even alive?

     We travelled back to London in a hurry, with Zola in our keep. Shortly after arriving, the Commandos received news about the next mission—the attack of the headquarters—on which they would be leaving in only a couple of days, giving them and me barely any time to grieve for our lost comrade, friend, and lover. That time, it wasn't too hard for me to decide to stay behind. I owed it to myself and to James to remain safe and sound until the baby came along.

     The Commandos invited me out on a drink to celebrate all of our successful missions and victories, but I refused. I couldn't simply go out as if nothing happened, and, with the baby growing inside of me, I shouldn't even drink anyway. The men said they would miss me, but they understood my side of things and let me be. When they left the SSR headquarters, I noticed Steve also wasn't tagging along, but I was too preoccupied with my own thoughts to worry about the blonde. I was sure he'd be fine.

     After my check-up on the pregnancy, I locked myself in my assigned room at the base and plugged in the gramophone, playing Sinatra's songs all day and all night long. I went to work; every morning, I'd write another part of the report from our missions, but the second I opened a blank page meant for me to write about December 16th, I just threw the paper in the trash bin and collapsed my face into my palms, letting the tears soak the rest of the reports to the point when they'd be unreadable, and I'd have to write them all over again. I didn't mind it; I liked to occupy myself with work. I didn't care if others were judging or whispering about me in hush tones; nothing mattered to me, anymore.

     The upcoming days turned from miserable to absolutely unbearable; every night I'd congratulate myself for getting through another day of it, but boy, did I want the sorrows to leave me. James' figure haunted me at work, when I slept, and when I chatted with people... He was all I could think about, and it was driving me crazy. He was a ghost that haunted me, reminding me of my sorrow, loneliness, and regrets, and I would've done anything to bring him back to life.

     Days passed, the Commandos were preparing to leave London, and I was stuck at my office desk, sorting out the last of the reports. My eyes kept escaping to the edge where, on an otherwise blank piece of paper, a haunting date was written in its corner. That whole scene kept playing in my head every time I looked at it until I, eventually, stopped looking.