LEGACY: a bucky barnes story

Chapter 19 - Appellation

Nightfall approached with haste. While I was content to rest in the service center shack, Bucky pulled me up and out into the night. I kept silent as we crept through the surrounding wooded area. I put as much pressure as I could on my leg to keep up with Bucky. If I slowed him down too much, he might kill me and cut his losses.

But he needs me.

No, he needs answers. I'm just convenient.

We trudged through the woods, with Bucky several strides ahead. I clutched tree branches for balance and to keep pace as we maneuvered the trail. My breath grew labored, uneven and jagged. I succumbed to the screams of pain and lack of air, crouching toward the crumbly earth.

"Bucky, please," I croaked.

He kept traipsing forward, cutting through various branches and shrubbery.

"Bucky?" I said, a bit louder. "Soldier?"

My heart sunk as his posture stiffened and he whipped his head around. His eyes locked and he backtracked to my position. He paused once he'd reached me, then crouched to my level.

"Please, I-I need to rest," I pleaded.

He sighed. "No."

"I just need a moment."

"I will carry you."

I opened my mouth to protest, but his arms had already begun gently lifting under my knees and left armpit. With my upper body in his bionic arm, my right arm flinched in adjusting around his neck. I breathed through the shoulder pain as the throbbing settled. My cheeks reddened and I silently thanked Whomever that it was nighttime.

Bucky spared no time getting us back on the move. I couldn't tell where we were fervently headed; we'd make great time, wherever it is we're going.

Bucky tripped and winced sharply, but remained upright.

"Are you okay—should you be carrying me?"

He nodded tersely. "Bruised ribs. I heal quickly."

I nodded apologetically. Desperate to change the subject, I wondered how he might react to questioning the unnerving 'Soldier' incident.

"Hey," I whispered. He tilted his head to meet my eyes. "Do you remember your name?"

He averted his gaze ahead, either to continue blazing our trail safely or to avoid answering my question.

"It's just... you answered to 'Soldier', but that's not your name... It's okay, I know your name is James Buchanan Barnes, but you go by 'Bucky', to some." I gulped slowly. "And maybe if I call St—"

He inhaled sharply and jerked his gaze to meet mine.

"Right, right, okay—no calls or contacting anyone, got it," I murmured. "But maybe I could take you somewhere. This museum, the Smithsonian Air and Space Museum, it has an extensive exhibit on Captain America. It has some of your history as well," I ventured.

"The Smithsonian?" he murmured

"Yeah—"

He pursed his lips and blew frustrated air out of his nostrils, his sharp jaw becoming more defined as he clenched his teeth. His tongue grazed over his lower lip, before the lip slid between his teeth. 

His small movements captivated me, though altogether derailing the flow of conversation. I sheepishly cleared my throat before responding, "Give yourself a chance; you're only just starting to recall a lifetime of memories."

He gave an imperceptibly curt nod, and retrained his focus ahead. After several paces in silence, I spoke again.

"What's the plan for lodging?"

"Keep moving."

I scoffed. "Bucky—we can't go all night. You need the rest as much as I do."

"No."

"Humor me, let's find a place to rest for the night and figure out a plan."

Bucky huffed at me. He answered softly, "I don't know where to go."

I smiled sympathetically. "I can help with that. I believe we're still on the Mt. Vernon trail, so if we travel west, we can head back toward civilization. I know of a quiet, cheap-ish motel on Arlington Boulevard we can stay for the night. My extended family has stayed there on occasion. It's near Rosslyn Station, so we'll be close to a bus that can take us to the Smithsonian tomorrow." My eyelids drooped and my head grew heavier. "If you cut through River Place Market, we'll come upon Fairfax Drive, and the motel's not much farther than that. Okay?"

"Why Virginia if the destination is D.C.?" he quipped.

"Well... D.C. is going to be pretty chaotic with the mess that went down yesterday—"

"Two days ago."

"Yeah, right, two d—what?"

"Two days ago."

"How long were we in that shack?"

"Two days."

"For fuck's sake," I muttered under my breath. We plodded along further in a flow of silence, cut short by the rumbling of my stomach. "How long have we been walking?"

"Approximately 16 minutes due northwest."

"Okay... thanks." I gritted my teeth. I hoped we were farther along than twenty minutes. "The motel's only a mile or so from the Triskelion—or what was—so we should be close."

I anticipated the rest of the journey to go unspoken until Bucky broke the silence. His eyes wandered to me, followed by a slight curvature of his head.

"You said...Bucky?"

"Yes, that's what Steve said—though your given name is James."

He pondered this for a moment. "Bucky," he breathed gravelly.

My foolish cheeks began to redden unwittingly again. "Yes, Bucky."

He nodded. "You're..." he puzzled.

"Jennifer," I answered. "My name is Jennifer Judith Coulson."