The Winter Star ❥ b.barnes daughter

i. found

BUCKY WAS PRACTICALLY ENGULFED
in the haunting solitude of his apartment, each day a relentless reminder of the absence of his beloved daughter, Ellie. Every corner, every creak of the floorboards, whispered her name, echoing the void in his heart. He couldn't bring himself to clean her room out,as if preserving it untouched might somehow beckon her return, a beacon of hope amidst the despair that threatened to eat him up.

His Ellie would come home.

Wandering through the apartment, his gaze would inevitably be drawn to Ellie's room, a sanctuary frozen in time, filled with remnants of her laughter, her dreams, her essence. The thought of clearing it out felt like erasing her existence, a betrayal he couldn't bear to commit. Perhaps, deep down, he harbored a sliver of belief that one day, a call would shatter the silence, bearing news of her whereabouts, and he would rush to her room, tears mingling with a bittersweet smile, as he craved it with the treasures he had almost bought, a silent tribute to the love that bound them. Well, use too.

In moments of fleeting respite, Bucky would venture outside, seeking solace amidst the bustling streets, his steps guided by memories of Ellie's laughter and the shared moments that now seemed like fragments of a distant dream. Yet, even amidst the throng of life, he felt the weight of loneliness pressing down on him, a constant companion in his solitary journey.

He would see father's with their daughters or sons and crave the feeling of that. That was him and Ellie once.

Returning to the sanctuary of his kitchen, Bucky would sit at the table, a relic of happier times, where he and Ellie would share meals and conversations that danced between laughter and tears.

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air, a ritual born out of necessity rather than preference, a feeble attempt to cling to the remnants of a world left behind.

As he savored the bitter-sweetness of the coffee, his reverie was interrupted by the persistent vibration of his phone. Retrieving it from his pocket, he glanced at the caller ID, a flicker of annoyance crossing his features as he recognized the name – Sam. Despite his silent plea for solitude, the urge to connect with another soul warred with his desire for isolation.

Answering the call, Bucky's voice betrayed a hint of apprehension, a shield against the vulnerability that threatened to consume him. "Hello?" he greeted.

"Hey, how are you?" Sam's voice, a lifeline in the sea of uncertainty, offered a glimmer of companionship amidst the desolation. Bucky's response was curt, a reflexive attempt to mask the tumult of irritation raging within him.

"Fine, is everything okay? Why are you calling me right now?" His words hung in the air, a fragile thread connecting him to the outside world, as he braced himself for the inevitable intrusion of reality.

Bucky Barnes strained to discern Sam's voice over the crackling static of the phone line, his heart pounding in his chest like a prisoner seeking escape from its confines. The silence stretched between them, a taut thread of anticipation, as Sam wrestled with words that seemed to evade his grasp.

Finally, Sam's hesitant voice broke through the barrier of uncertainty, each syllable heavy with the weight of revelation. "Don't freak out or anything...but, I think we have your kid," he confessed, the words hanging in the air like a fragile promise, teetering on the brink of disbelief.

For a moment, time seemed to stand still as Bucky grappled with the enormity of Sam's proclamation. Could it be true? Had fate finally deigned to bestow upon him the miraculous return of his long-lost daughter? The possibility sent tremors of hope coursing through his veins, battling against the pervasive doubt that bubbled up inside of him.