Haunted-Mind

Closing the door of the apartment building behind him, Bucky Barnes shook evidence of the sudden rain out of his hair and off his jacket. When he had set out for a walk, the forecast had been clear, but ten blocks from home, the sky had started leaking. Just another unpredictable day in Brooklyn. Bucky climbed the stairs and headed toward his apartment. Halfway down the hall, something made him slow up. Something felt off. He froze, focusing everything into his senses. Nothing jumped out right away, so he took a silent step forward, and then another. A muffled sound caught his left ear. It had come from the apartment across the hall from his. ‘It’s probably nothing,’ he thought, walking silently toward the door. Neighbours make sounds and this certainly wasn’t overly loud. Still, there was that odd feeling as if the air itself was wrong. Bucky was just a few steps from his neighbour’s door when he noticed the damage to the doorknob. Just above that, a

The envelope was yellowed around the edges as if it sat in a stack for many years, although the printed address label was clearly new. It was addressed to Bucky Barnes. Most of the small amount of mail Bucky received was addressed formally to Sgt. J Barnes or informally to Current Resident. Bucky set his grocery bag on the kitchen counter and carefully tore open the envelope. When he pulled out the old fashioned stationery and saw the handwriting, he moved into the living room and sat in the single comfortable armchair. "Buck, I know my decision to stay in the past was hard on you. I know what it's like to be out of place in a world that has jumped ahead of you. And even though she lived the years I had skipped, I still had Peggy. Thank you for encouraging me to do this. My only regret was having to leave you. If you’re reading this letter, then I’m gone. I lived more life than most people normally get. But, I may not have even made it past high school if you hadn’t always been

Standing alone at the corner of the porch, Bucky watched friends and acquaintances in various small groups socializing on the lawn. In so many ways, he felt out of place and yet everyone he cared about was there. It was the place – the Stark home – and the occasion – Tony’s memorial – that made him feel so awkward. Despite the murmur of conversation and the rustling of leaves in the wind, Bucky’s heightened senses picked out soft footsteps crossing the porch toward him. When the footsteps stopped, he turned and was startled to find Tony’s widow gazing serenely up at him. His voice croaked a bit when he spoke. “Ms. Potts. Or Mrs. Stark?” “Pepper is easier. I hear you prefer Bucky.” He nodded. “I’m very sorry about Tony.” The words were out of his mouth before he could second guess himself. “Thank you.” Pepper’s eyes saddened but her peaceful smile remained. “I wanted to make sure you’re okay.” A stab of

A couple of hours into their flight out of Madripoor, Bucky barely managed to suppress a yawn. “Why don’t you catch some sleep?” Sam said, looking up from reading a book on his phone. “I already had a nap so I’ll keep an eye on Zemo. Not that he looks like he is going anywhere.” Across the aisle of the plane, Zemo reclined in his seat with a cashmere blanket over him and a silk sleeping mask across his eyes. “You know what happens when I sleep. I don’t particularly feel like sharing that experience with him.” Bucky glared at the oblivious baron. “You don’t have a nightmare every night, do you?” “Since we dredged him up, yeah.” Sam thought about pointing out that asking Zemo for help had been Bucky’s idea, but it didn’t seem like the right time to push his buttons. He looked like he might fall out of his chair at any moment. “You’re gonna have to sleep sometime. It’s a long way to Riga. Zemo is out now.

Bucky held the door until Sam took the weight before flicking on the light and leading the way into the small apartment. It didn’t take Sam long to examine the sparse furnishings and settle himself on one of the bar stools at the kitchen counter. Bucky opened the fridge and pulled out a pair of bottles. Taking one, Sam said, “Hey, why don’t you fly down for the weekend? The boys would love to see you.” “Uh, I can’t,” Bucky said without making eye contact. “Why? You got a girl?” Bucky laughed softly, “No.” “A guy?” “No.” That one earned Sam a fierce side eye. “Hey, I had to ask. It’s pretty common.” Rolling his eyes, Bucky set his beer on the counter and moved toward the bathroom. “Wait there,” he said over his shoulder. When he came back, he was carrying a cardboard box with holes in the sides for handles. He placed it on the counter between them and pulled off the lid. Something inside made a high-pitched squeak. Sam cautiously peeked over the side. “Huh. I never