We went to a quaint cafe in upstate New York which was cozy, and full of regular customers who went there everyday to read their newspapers, and get their morning cup of java.
Steve, and I, being the outsiders, seemed out of place, and the habitual clientele could definitely tell we weren't the usual's. And, I prone to a habit of my own, wore sunglasses, and stayed vigilant.
"You like this all the time?" The feathery blonde piped up, taking note of my borderline paranoid measures.
"It's been a difficult couple of months, Steve." I disclosed.
It had begun to rain outside, the downpour streaming throughout town, sogging out everything.
The cold autumn deluge creating puddles, and mounds of fallen leaves got swept up within the watery torrents which gushed down the streets before spilling into the sewer drains.
"So, how did you expect your married life to go now?" Steve inquired over coffee.
"Peaceful again, I suppose," I started up. "I knew James would always be scarred, and that it'd be a daily struggle to remind him of how much I love him, and that none of it was his fault, but that was just wishful thinking, wasn't it?"
"Always being on the run, having enemies, the constant worry of what might happen. That's always there, and forever will be. Like, I have to wear disguises, and James can't even breathe the second he leaves the house, always looking over his shoulder, overthinking every glance he gets. It's hard, running." I divulged.
"I'm sorry, Becky. I know you wanted a normal life."
"Yeah, but people like us don't get normal lives, do we?" I declared. "Apparently after all our pain, and sorrow, and hurt, and after all the struggles we've had to endure, we still don't deserve it. Peace, and normality."
"You know, the man who went into the ice wanted that. Security, and a family. I think someone different came out though," Steve said. "Did you ever want a family?"
"I have one," I answered. "James, and you. You're my family too."
"I know, but more than us?" Steve probed.
"It doesn't matter now." I told him.
"Why?" He kept on. "I know it's been tough being on the run, but things will calm down."
"I can't have kids, Steve," I interjected. "Being in the ice for 70 years really isn't conducive for proper procreation. I'm sorry if you don't know already, but you probably can't have any children either."
"I'm sorry, Becky. I really am."
"Neither can James. The Russian's make that a mandatory thing they get rid of once you're a super secret assassin. He got a vasectomy a long time ago. Like I said, Steve, people like us don't get peace, and normality."
While the rainstorm continued on outside, so did our conversation, and by our third refill of coffee Steve was ready to delve into his concerns.
"Have you gotten hurt because of him? I don't like dwelling on it, but I have to since you're back to living with him. And, be honest."
"Okay, fine. Yes, I have," I acknowledged, taking another sip of my coffee. "He has night terrors a lot, and sometimes he reverts back. A couple of scratches here, and there, maybe a bruise, or two. What does it matter?"
"Have you told Bucky about it?" Steve pressed on, and I could tell how worried he was.
"No, I have a rule about that. Never let him see the damage. It's not his fault anyway, it's the Winter Soldier's." I justified.
"Becky, as much as we as his friend, and wife don't like to admit it they're one in the same. They aren't different bodies."
"No, they're not one in the same," I retaliated. "James is my husband, my partner, the one I chose to spend the rest of my life with til death do us part. The Winter Soldier is the one who breaks us up, the one who interrupts our dates. They may be in one body, but they are not the same."
"Right, I'm sorry. That must be really difficult to live with" Steve apologized, and I just nodded.
"You know, there are moments when he's James. When he's flirty, and smiles at me, and is romantic..." I began. "And, then there are moments when he's the other guy. When he's the Winter Soldier, and sometimes he doesn't even recognize me. Sometimes he's violent, and I have to fight to save myself, and fight to save him from doing something he'll regret. Both those moments are equal in being unexpected, and I never know which moment I'll get, but it makes me cherish the good moments that much more."
"Becky, will you be okay staying like that? I don't want anything to happen to you, and you're right, Bucky probably wouldn't be able to continue on if he knew he was the reason for your death. A death I don't want to happen." Steve cautioned.
"I have to be fine," I replied. "We're the only two people James has. And, I don't mind the bad days because anything is better then when he couldn't remember me."
Once the rain had dissipated into a mere drizzle it was time to part ways again.
I, to my flight. Him, back to the new facility.
We hugged again, and I kissed his cheek.
"It was nice seeing you again, Steve."
"When will be the next time?"
"Soon."