Remember Bucky saying "Who the hell is Bucky" in CA:TWS? Here's why that line means so much to me.
Bucky swearing should not be a thing in Winter Soldier mode. He's a weapon, he's supposed to be emotionless, and what he did there was a demonstration of frustration. Confusion. It's also Bucky shining through.
See, in the comics, Bucky could have an absolute MOUTH on him. He wasn't like, offensive or anything, but he definitely played fast and loose with swearing. So the Winter Soldier swearing? That's a tiny piece of Bucky. That's something from Bucky Hydra hasn't been able to take from him, muscle memory they haven't been able to erase. That right there was Bucky. And I love that
I don't care WHAT you say Bucky Barnes drinks Iced Coffee (and it's the Fruity stuff) AND they hold it at the top with the straw between their index and middle finger like a PROPER Gay.
And sam drinks his coffee black and hot like a psychopath. Bucky hates it and thinks he's crazy. Too bad they decided to be in love with him...
SUMMARY: I’m on a mission at a little cabin. It’s all good till the rain comes.
WARNINGS: Angst? ... maybe - if you squint.
For @angrybirdcr ‘s writing challenge. My prompt was: standing in the rain.
One of the most beautiful places on this mission was the porch. Sure, the fact that I’d be ringing blood from my t-shirt tomorrow was a little off-putting. But overall, this was a good mission. Beautiful scenery. Needing a remote hide out, Bucky and I were dropped at a little cabin. It was small: one bedroom, a ridiculously tiny bathroom, and what I guess passed as a kitchen. It was really just a slab of linoleum and a coffee pot. But the real gem was the tin-roof back porch.
It was just a small concrete slab. The tin roof held up by a few decorative iron columns. It was simple with just a couple of rocking chairs and a little coffee table. I filled my morning sitting on that little porch, rocking away with a cup of coffee. Birds chirping rang through the sky and the sun bounced off the pond in the back yard. It was peaceful and gorgeous.
I was so glad that we got to stay in the cabin for an entire day before our mission. It gave me and Bucky a nice vacation from the compound. Something we desperately need. I swear, it’s harder to get privacy in that place than it is to kidnap the President. Pat. Some dark clouds started rolling over the pond.
Bucky had just finished his shower – or rather, finished the hot water. He was a huge fan of long, hot showers. Apparently, when you have lived with timed, cold showers for 60+ years good showers are a luxury to savor. Which means I have to wait almost an hour before I can shower. Pat. It’s okay though. Pat, pat. There could be worse things for a fiancé to do.
Pat, pat, pat… ting pat, ting. The rain began to fall. It stung the tin roof I sat under. It was glorious, filling me with the sounds of home. Reminding me of sitting on the porch with grandma under her tin roofed porch. A roaring noise that drowned out the rest of the world. It demanded to be heard.
The stinging rain that seemed to seep down into my bones. The noise that rushed through your ears. A noise that nearly sings me to sleep. PING, TING, TING, PAT, RATTA! The furious noise rang through the porch, echoed in the cabin, and brought a smile to my face.
I grabbed my now empty coffee cup and went inside to grab a refill. The rain drowned out the noise of the poured coffee, the slammed fridge, and my heavy footsteps. I grabbed my jacket and stood in the doorframe of the back porch. Happy. Content. Grateful for the chaotic rain.
Closing my eyes and taking a deep breath of the rain filled air, I felt a peace I hadn’t felt in years. It felt like…home. Lazily I watched the scenery, scanning from the left to the right. Looking over the pond, the trees swayed in the wind. The pond wrinkled and the wind roared over the grass. And the – Bucky? Yes, it was Bucky. What the hell is he standing in the rain??? I grabbed the umbrella by the back door and trudged through the swampy yard.
“Bucky?” I wrapped my jacket around my chest as I walked under my shield. “Honey, what are you doin?” approaching slowly from beside him.
He didn’t say anything. No sly remark. No playful banter. Nothing. He just looked out over the water; eyes fixed straight ahead. Standing tall, shoulders back and hands hanging around his waist. Water pounded his hair flat against his forehead. The rain washing over his shoulders and bounced in every direction.
Emotion. There was so much emption plaguing his facial features. Oh God, how I wished that he would have been staring blankly. But no, he was a billboard of emotions. Anger. Confusion. Pain? What the hell was he feeling right now.
“Buck?” speaking over the rain that pelted my umbrella.
It was fear. That was the emotion.
Screaming over the rain. “What are you doing out here? Are you okay?” rattling off my questions far too fast for them to actually be answered.
“It’s a tin roof.”
I took a half step forward believing I could decipher his message if I was closer to him. It’s a tin roof? What’s a tin roof? The porch? Of course it was a tin roof, this is an old fashioned cabin in the middle of the woods. Assuming he was talking about the porch, I asked “But why are you in the rain.”
Straightening his jaw, “It sounds like gun fire.” He shook and dropped his head to look at his sinking boots, “A hell of a lot of gun fire.”
I shook my head and fixed my eyes on the spotted pond in front of me. Gun fire. This man had been through multiple wars, fought countless battles, sent on thousands of un-named missions, and only had a choice in a handful of them. The same exact noise which brought me so much peace took him to God knows where doing God knows what. The noise that enveloped the cabin in the feeling of home reminded him of death, destruction, and pain.
“The whole cabin, huh?” He lifted his jaw just slightly before nodding once.
“Okay then,” and I reached up to the clasp on my umbrella and brought it down. Rain poured from everywhere as my hair began to saturate and my jacket cling to my body. I reached down and laced my fingers within his, “let’s wait out here then.”
