Chapter Text
It had been three weeks since Bucky had left Steve Roger’s unconscious body on the riverbank.
Creating a list of objectives was one of the first things Bucky did, knowing that the routine of following orders or objectives might sooth her mind- even if having the freedom of choice was something she’d not had for the last seventy years. The list was short, covering the essentials that would maximise the success rate of staying free. The first was avoiding being recaptured by Hydra. The second was avoiding Steve Rogers. Relocation seemed like the best plan for both, at least to reduce the predictability of where they’d be hunting her. So after liberating money and the paperwork needed to make herself a new identity, Bucky boarded a train and found herself back in New York in the autumn and so begun the process of accomplishing the two goals she’d set herself.
In the time that had past, Bucky had accomplished many things. Memories, both pleasant and unpleasant, had begun to make themselves known to Bucky- mostly in the few moments she managed to sleep- so she’d begun to piece together who both Jane ‘Bucky’ Barnes and The Solider were, what motivated them both which had helped somewhat. The memories of her family made it clear that they’d existed long before the time she currently found herself in- Bucky had the small man who wore round glasses to thank for that- but a warm feeling always filled Bucky’s chest when she found herself waking up from dreams of them. Of her sisters, Rebecca and Sarah Barnes- of braiding Sarah’s Hair or arguing over whose turn it was to use the bath first and use up all the hot water. Bucky always tried her best to cling to sleep for as long as possible when she dreamed of them, of a time before she was the broken mess that Hydra had created.
Dreams of her sisters were rare, and more than not Bucky would dream of the Soldiers actions- the faces of those she’d killed, the noise of throats being cut or the sensation as bullets or knives pierced her body. While this apparently didn’t create any response to The Solider in her mind, Bucky’s body always reacted violently and she’d find herself sat bolt upright in her bed, with her heart bounding in her chest and her hands grasping at the sheets beneath her. Bittersweet dreams or nightmares quickly became a part of Bucky’s routine as she tried to settle into a civilian lifestyle.
Very little remained of the New York from Bucky’s memories. The people mostly seemed the same, grumpily going about their business and cursing anyone who got in their way. That at least was something to cling to but there were too many bright lights and flashing screens, shinier cars and taller- and uglier- buildings. After a few days, Bucky found her feet acted of their own accord until she found herself stood outside the apartment building she and Steve Rogers grew up in. It was nothing like what she remembered, a large advertisement on the outside with Roger’s face on it advertising trips around his own home. The idea of people traipsing around Roger’s old apartment made Bucky’s skin crawl and felt emptier than she’d imagined. She didn’t know what she’d hoped to feel going there but it wasn’t that. The crawling sensation under her skin only grew worse until Bucky couldn’t stand it and ducked into the nearest building. She found herself in the doorway of a coffee shop. Bucky walked straight towards the back towards the bathroom at the back. Throwing open the door Bucky had never been more glad to find it was a single room, not one with cubicles. She threw across the lock and headed towards the sink, running the faucet and splashing the cold water on her face until the electric crawling feeling under her skin calmed. Bucky dried her face with paper towels and took a deep breath before exiting the bathroom. Bucky opened the door and found an elderly woman stood outside, a mug in her hand and a curious expression.
“You alright?” The woman asked looking Bucky up and down. Her voice was stern, as was the expression behind her large round glasses.
“Fine now,” Bucky answers immediately, something in the woman’s voice telling her that trying to get past her won’t work.
“You sure, you look like crap.” The old woman takes a sip of her drink. “Sit with me,” she points to a nearby table where Bucky can see a handbag, two metal knitting needles and a pile of wool resting on top of the table. Bucky weighs up her options; while a part of her wants to try get past the old woman another part wants to hide from the outside world in the darkened coffee shop. Hiding wins out and so Bucky finds herself sitting down across from the old woman who looks pleased.
“So, you going get something to drink or just sit there?” The old woman asks as she picks up the knitting needles. Bucky watches as she continues knitting for a few moments before answering.
“Don’t know what to order.” Bucky had entered a coffee shop like this before, having recognised the green mermaid sign from many of the streets she’d past. Honestly, having so many different versions of coffee seemed ridiculous- surely you only needed it with milk or not?
“Hmmm…” the old woman said as she once again looked Bucky over. Bucky resisted the urge to squirm under her gaze. “You a vet?” The woman asked apparently having concluded that she wore the signs of someone from the military. Bucky’s surprised expression at her correct assessment made her nod.
“Right, wait here.” The woman got up and headed towards the counter. Bucky watched as she had nothing else to do. The old woman seemed to be speaking to the person behind the counter and Bucky managed to not bolt when she pointed in her direction. The man behind the counter said something back before turning and beginning to make a drink. Bucky couldn’t make out much from where she was sat but she didn’t miss the glass of ice that the man added to a large container- what the hell kind of coffee needed ice? After another minute, during which the man behind the counter blended the ice with the coffee and poured it an honestly ridiculous amount of milk and then poured the contents into a plastic cup before adding whipped cream and a caramel glaze.
“Now don’t have that expression, you’ve not even tried this yet and my granddaughter tells me a Frappuccino makes her feel better. I got the caramel sauce as chocolate always seems so sickly to me.” The old woman places the plastic cup in front of Bucky and then sinks back into her own chair. Bucky looks at the cup for a few moments, a part of her mind weighing up the possibility the drink could be drugged but she’d witnessed the man making the drink and there was only a small chance that he’d have had the time to slip something past either her gaze or the old woman’s. Bucky reached forwards and grasped the plastic cup and brought the straw to her mouth before taking an experimental sip. Ice cold sweetness fills Bucky’s mouth, the bitter flavour of coffee almost impossible to taste under the milk, cream and sugar. It’s nothing like what Bucky remembers of the coffee she’d drank in the past.
“Now that’s more like it.” The woman says. She sits silently, occasionally taking a sip from her mug while she continues to knit. Bucky drinks her drink and looks around the coffee shop. Nearby is a corkboard with various pieces of paper pinned onto them and as the door opens a breeze blows through and makes the papers dance. A bright orange paper catches Bucky’s eye and she finds herself rising to look towards it. The orange paper advertises a flat for rent and Bucky takes the flier from the wall and returns to her seat.
“What’s that?” The old woman asks curiously.
“Advertising for an apartment,” Bucky answers holding the paper out to show her.
“Hmmm… not far from my building. You gunna go look at it?” The woman says handing it over.
“Don’t have a phone.” Bucky replied. The old woman reached down into her bag, pulled out her phone and grabbed back the paper and tapped the screen before holding it up to her ear. Bucky listened as she talked to the person on the end of the phone, arranging to meet them in half an hour before hanging up.
“Right, we’d better get going.” The woman says beginning to put all her things inside her bag.
“Where?”
“To see the flat of course. I’ll show you the way.” The old woman says getting up. Bucky is glad that her cup is plastic because she still has at least half of the creamy drink left so she takes it with her. Following the woman through the street Bucky finds herself wondering if this was a bad idea. Should she be trusting her? Would she be leading her somewhere, could she be Hydra? Despite her fears Bucky still follows her until she stops and turns to face her.
“This is my stop I’m afraid, you need to keep going straight for one more block and look for the building with the blue door. Ring the fourth buzzer and Jessica will come get you.”
The old woman says patting Bucky’s arm. “I’m Ruth, by the way. Ruth O’Riordan. I’d better see you in Busy Bean again, you owe me a coffee,” the old woman, Ruth, smiled before turning and climbing the stairs to her own building. Bucky waited until she entered before she headed towards the direction Ruth had told her. By the time Bucky arrives at the blue doored building it’s begun to rain. She rings the buzzer and is glad to find that a girl appears behind it not a moment later.
She’s shorter than Bucky by a good few inches, slim, with a series of tattoos visible on her skin and her hair is a bright unnatural purple. Despite the weather, she’s wearing only a t-shirt and skirt when she opens the door and her brown eyes giving Bucky the once over before stepping inside to let her through. The woman, who introduces herself as Jess, comments on how the elevator is always broken and bemoans how she has to walk up all nine floors. Bucky stays silent, the ninth floor seems good to her as it offers a smaller chance of snipers and should offer a good vantage of the surrounding buildings and the street below. Jess doesn’t stall around when they arrive on the ninth floor. She takes Bucky through the door and shows her around the flat. The kitchen is to the immediate left of the entrance, contains more than enough cupboards for one person as well as a stove, fridge and other electrical items Bucky isn’t quite sure on. Further down the small entryway is the living dining area with a old wooden table, four chairs placed around it and further away towards the balcony doors is a sofa. Jess shows Bucky into the bedroom, which contains a chest of draws, mirror and a double bed and then opens the door into the bathroom. Bucky is more than glad that there’s a tub inside.
The apartment is more than suitable to Bucky’s needs and Jess is more than happy to hand over the keys immediately after giving Bucky the details on how to pay- putting the rent money inside the flats post box downstairs.
“Enjoy,” Jess says as she exits and Bucky waits until she can’t hear Jess’s footsteps anymore to lock the door, noting that new locks will be a necessary purchase- another objective to complete.
After sweeping the apartment for bugs, Bucky moves on to cataloguing what she’ll need to purchase to minimise her time spent outside- par trips to gain coffee. Ruth is right. Frappuccino’s do make you feel better.
Baring the various electrical items, the kettle and the stove and oven Bucky finds that the kitchen contains three sets of pans, three large plats, two bowls, seven forks, four knives and eleven spoons. Bucky would have preferred having equal amounts of various tools but this is at least a good start.
Bucky tests the chairs around the table and is glad that only one will need fixing as so not to wobble. The table as well is solid, so solid Bucky can sit on top of it and it doesn’t even groan, and it only contains a few scratches and marks. Bucky jumps down from the table and walks towards the sofa. Its fabric is well worn but soft to the touch and while slightly lumpy it’s comfortable, especially when Bucky puts her feet up on the coffee table in front of it.
By early evening, Bucky has hidden various weapons around the apartment, found various hiding spots for the money she’d taken from the Hydra base she’d hit before travelling to New York. She pulls the previous Hydra laptop from her bag and pulls up the internet. Debugging and removing any tracking software had been a simple and easy task as soon as she was on the plane, and the internet is another thing that adds to Bucky’s approval of the future. It’s does not create the same warm feeling in her chest as coffee does but it sure is useful. Bucky sits on the sofa researching until her eyes grow heavy. She reaches forward and places the laptop on the coffee table before standing up and stretching. Various joints pop but pain levels are normal. Bucky walks around her apartment making sure it as secure before entering the bedroom. The door lacks a lock which is unnerving but Bucky pushes the dresser in front of the door and it helps settle the feeling of unease over security. It’s not perfect but should anyone try break in the noise of the dresser dragging against the floor is sure to wake her up. Bucky heads to the bathroom, pees and rinses her face with water before collapsing onto the mattress. It’s scratchy under her skin but exhaustion is setting in so sleep soon drags Bucky into unconsciousness.