Connie ran back and forth throughout the small room, tossing whatever necessities she could into her small duffel bag. Steve was gone and she wasn't sure where, but she couldn't bring herself to really care about where he had run off to. It was better for him to be gone at the moment; had he not been gone, he wouldn't allow what was happening to actually happen, and she refused to let him stop her.
The tears flowed quickly down Connie's face as she continued on. She wiped them away, but more and more followed. She'd been crying for the past twelve hours and Bucky's absence was the reason why. She couldn't even begin to describe how much pain wracked her small body; she felt so lost without him, so broken, which was why she refused to believe he was truly gone.
Connie was going to find Bucky, despite how irrational it seemed to be. She would not deny that she was, in fact, in denial. It's what made things so much harder for her—it's what drove her to make such a decision in the first place. She figured that if she wasn't able to find him as she planned to do, the extreme cold in the mountains would numb the pain she felt. A small part of her even hoped that if she was unsuccessful, nature would run its course and send her to Bucky itself.
Connie soon found herself standing in front of Bucky's chest of drawers. She was normally one to leave his belongings alone unless he gave her permission or she was doing the laundry, but now she just had the burning desire to be around anything of his that could bring her closer, bring her back.
Her lip trembled slightly as she pulled open the top drawer, and a few more tears slipped down her face. Connie reached down into the drawer and pulled out one of Bucky's shirts, hugging it close to her. She could still smell him on it, and that only made her break down even more.
Connie was sure she had stained the shirt with her tears after several moments, and so she placed the shirt back where it belonged. As she moved her hands to pick up another article of clothing, her hand hit something small. Her brows fell in confusion and she grabbed the item, removing it, as well as a small slip of paper from the drawer. Connie's breath caught in her throat as she took notice of what the item was and she removed the small piece of paper from it, holding it to her face to read the words scribbled on it in Bucky's handwriting.
You're home now, James Barnes. The war is over. Just ask the damn girl to marry you. She loves you to death. There's no way she'll say no.
Connie let out a sob as she read over the words, and she opened the small box in her hand. Inside was a ring, a very beautiful diamond ring that Connie could most certainly recall seeing before. She had been out shopping with Steve and Bucky while they were home for a few days when she first saw it, though she hadn't realized until now that she had spent so much time gazing at the piece of jewelry. Bucky must have seen just how much love she had for it and went back for it the next day, she thought.
The brunette closed the small box and placed it, and the note, back into the drawer where Bucky had originally hidden them. She wasn't sure what to feel at the moment; her emotions were overwhelming her tremendously. Bucky had planned to ask Connie to marry him after coming home from the war, and she was more than thrilled about the fact of it, but she was also brokenhearted knowing that the possibility of such was so slim at the moment.
Constance Mae refused to give up hope, though. She would do whatever it took to bring James Barnes back to her. . .whatever it took.
_____
PRESENT DAY — 2014
The old memory played over and over again in Connie's mind. It was very rare that she allowed herself to fall victim to the memories and feelings of her life in the past, but her memories of or about Bucky Barnes seemed to be a little bit harder for her to ignore. He was the single most important man in her life aside from Steve; he was the man who helped get her through her days; he was the man she loved and still loved most in the world.
Despite her feelings, Connie was rather annoyed that she had allowed her emotional attachments control her. Over the years she had developed a rather hardened exterior, so it was quite rare that she displayed her very personal emotions. Yes, she was human and very familiar with emotions and the pain they sometimes caused, but as a trained assassin and a high-ranking S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, her emotions only served her as a distraction, or so she believed.
The memory continued its reign of terror inside Connie's mind. Connie grew more and more annoyed with the fact of it, and she let out an angered grunt before delivering a strong blow to the sandbag she had been working out with. The chain that held that the bag securely to the ceiling of the Triskelion armory snapped, sending the bag flying towards the opposite wall. Sand spilled from the bag, but Connie couldn't bring herself to really care about the mess. Someone would clean it up later.
"What did that poor bag do to you?" a voice sounded as Connie picked up her water bottle. She turned to see Natasha strolling into the armory, her brow raised and a slight smirk on her face.
"Not much," Connie breathed out as she took a swig of her water. "What brings you here?"
Natasha shrugged and leaned against the wall. "I just finished a training session downstairs with a few of the new recruits from the Academy, and I knew you would be up here obliterating perfectly good workout equipment, so I decided to check up on you."
"We both know that's not really why you're here."
"Okay," Natasha chuckled. "You caught me."
Connie picked up her duffel bag and threw it over her shoulder. "What's goin' on, Nat?"
"Fury's given the two of us a mission," Natasha told her.
"Elaborate."
"We've been asked to assist the S.T.R.I.K.E. team to aid in liberation of the Lemurian Star," the redhead informed her friend. "There's more to the mission, but I'd rather wait to get into detail in the car. We have to go pick up Steve."
Connie nodded in understanding and began making her way out of the building with Natasha. The two made their way past multiple S.H.I.E.L.D. agents and workers, but Connie was once again too lost in her thoughts to pay attention to any of her surroundings.
That single memory seemed to have a hold on her and she hated it. It was one memory she had left that she remembered so perfectly, which was rather strange in her opinion. Of course, she remembered her life with Bucky and Steve fairly excellently, but after she was forced to begin her new life when she was captured, those memories slowly became cloudier and cloudier, only to be replaced by the brutal and bloody ones.
Connie wasn't sure why that particular memory always seemed to stand out to her. She figured it was her subconscious's way of allowing her to think about what could've been, and sometimes when she was alone she would think about such. She thought about what would have become of her had Bucky never fallen off the train back in 1945; she wondered what would have become of their relationship. She liked to think that Bucky would've fallen through with his proposal. Becoming his wife, becoming his forever, was all that Connie had wanted back then. Starting a life and a family with James Barnes was what brought her happiness, but now, knowing that wasn't exactly possible, it brought her anything but.
"Hey," Natasha's voice sounded, removing Connie from her thoughts.
"Huh?" Connie asked as she looked to Natasha. She had been so lost in her thoughts that she hadn't even noticed they'd arrived to the garage.
Natasha raised a brow at her friend's strange behavior, unsure why she was acting the way she was. "Are you okay? I don't think I've seen you like this before," Natasha said as she rounded the front of her car to hop in the driver's seat.
Connie mentally cursed herself for not having a better hold over her emotions. "I'm fine."
"You do know that I'm the closest female friend you have, right?" Natasha scoffed as Connie hopped into the passenger's seat. "I know you better than anyone aside from Steve."
"I'm sure you do," Connie muttered as she built her walls back up. "We can talk about it later, though. Right now I'm curious about the details regarding this mission."
Natasha quickly pulled out of the parking garage. "Fury needs the two of us to retrieve confidential S.H.I.E.L.D. files."
"Why?" Connie asked with furrowed brows.
"You and I both know it's better to do rather than ask questions when it comes to Fury."
Connie chuckled. "A valid point, I guess."
"Just don't inform Steve," Natasha told her. "He has his mission to take care of and we have ours."
"I see Fury is working that compartmentalization again?"
Natasha smirked and nodded.
"Looks like we're in for a long night then," Connie said.
"Most definitely."