Saving Bucky (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

Chapter 81 - Family Ties

"But he's confused, Buck," you whisper back. "If he's my grandfather, and this Silke woman is his daughter...then, Silke is my mom, James. How can I talk to him about my mother - about Silke - when he thinks I'm her?"

James offers you a sad smile. "Sometimes to get to the truth, you have to lean into the lie," he says quietly. "Let him believe you're whoever he needs to believe you are. And then go back further. To the beginning."

"Beginning?"

"To Silke's mother. Your grandmother," James says. "He clearly remembers his wife. Let him talk about her, then see if you can guide him towards a conversation about Silke. It'll be easier for him to remember that way."

You suck your bottom lip between your teeth, glancing back at the old man for a moment as he continues to simply hold your hand. Although his gentle tracings have ceased, and he sits now staring straight into the fire of the hearth, a glazed-over look in his eye.

"But what about me?" you ask quietly, glancing back at James. "I know it's selfish, but...I-I want to know about me too, Buck. How do I get him there?"

James is silent for a moment, the lines in his forehead letting you know he's thinking. "I don't know," he finally says with a small frown. "I don't know if you can."

A shaky exhale leaves your lips as your shoulders fall in dismay. James lets out a sigh and runs silver fingers through messy brown hair as he leans forward in his chair, reaching for your free hand - the one Mikolaj doesn't hold. 

"Baby doll," he says, letting his thumb stroke your knuckles. "What we know about you already is that you were a baby when your family was taken. The old man might not remember you ever being born. His memories might not carry him that far."

You let out a staggered exhale, but you know he's right. And at this point you just want to know something - anything - about your family. Even if you learn nothing more about yourself. And if you're going to have any kind of fruitful conversation, you're going to have to ease into things gently. Starting with things he knows. 

And right now, he seems to know Silke. 

Lean into the lie, you think to yourself, your mouth suddenly going very dry as you pull your hand from James and turn to face Mikolaj on the couch.

"Miko-papa," you correct yourself. "Will you...will you tell me about mother?"

Grandmother, you remind yourself. She would be my grandmother.

Your chest tightens and your pulse races as Mikolaj's smile widens. "She 'vill be home soon," he says, patting your hand as he tears his eyes away from the fire. 

"I know," you sigh. "But...I just want to know more about her."

"'Vatever 'vould you 'vant to know, Mäuschen?" he questions. 

"Anything," you say breathlessly. "I just...I'd like to hear you talk about her."

Mikolaj smiles, pride in his eye as he falls silent and thoughtful for a moment. Suddenly he shifts, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a classic leather wallet - worn and old, barely held together at the crease. "Have I told you of the day 've married?" he questions, flipping open the wallet and wedging his knobbled knuckles between a peeling fabric slit, fumbling with something. "She 'vas beautiful," he sighs, finally getting a grip on the edge of a yellowed piece of paper, and giving it a tug. 

And out fall several small photographs. You inhale sharply as Mikolaj gathers them in curled and weathered hands that tremble with age.

"You...you have photos?" you ask quietly, barely more than a whisper.