Dog Years
Cross posted on Ao3
Summary: Bucky Barnes has escaped Hydra after a grueling 70 years of torture. He's lost who he is and is trying to regain what it means to be a human. One walk in the park and he meets a boy who will change his perspective on life.
NOT A SHIP THIS IS WINTER!DAD PROPAGANDA
Word Count: 1.7k
The days since DC had been fixed in a loose schedule, as much of a schedule as Bucky could stick to. It started once he had found a place. The two months were spent hopping from one motel to the other. He took refuge in any place he could to lay low and feel safe enough to get in a few hours of sleep before waking up and feeling like someone was watching him. Like they were waiting until his guard had lowered enough to get the jump on him and drag him back to Hydra or the remnants of Shield, somewhere he could be locked up or have his memory wiped or even just plain kill him. The unfortunate part of being a soldier of Hydra for 70-something years–other than the obvious torture and brainwashing–was that Bucky was well aware of the amount of Hydra operative active all across the globe. New York, being a major city, was full of them. He was grateful, to a degree, that many of the Shield-Hydra operatives had been taken into custody following Captain America, the Black Widow, and the Falcon’s fight in DC and the Widow in particular for leaking as many files as she did. Sure, he was going to be on the run until his inevitable capture or death, but he had the piece of mind of knowing that a few less Hydra members were free to continue wrecking havoc against innocent people.
It was that piece of mind mixed with all his fear and anxiety that kept him going long enough to put together a fake identity and set himself up with a matching fake license that got him a shitty apartment on the outskirts of Queens. It was close to Brooklyn, where he’d supposedly grown up. Bucky was technically free, but he had no idea what that freedom meant. He didn’t know who he was. Sure, the Smithsonian had revered him as “Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes” the late soldier who had dutifully served in the 108th and with the Howling Commandos, but was that really him? Once he’d arrived in Queens and been handed the keys to his new apartment, he’d gone to the nearest library, searching for any information he could find about himself, his past, his life. He read up on Captain America, or Steve Rogers. The man was so familiar, like he was a faded memory from a past life. There were videos of him with Steve, smiling. Bucky couldn’t remember the last time he’d smiled. He would believe it if someone told him the images and videos he was looking at were the last moments in which he had smiled.
The first month in his apartment, he rarely left. He used up the last of the cash that he’d scrounged up from the wallets of Hydra soldiers when they’d been unconscious, before they were locked up. He stared at the empty apartment, knowing he needed a job. Thankfully, the ground floor of his building held a bulletin board. People looking for dog walkers, neighboring communities looking for someone to mow lawns or shovel driveways, others looking for a handyman. It almost surprised him, when he’d first discovered it. He wasn’t too familiar with technology more than using one of the desktops at the library, opting for a burner that he could dispose of in a pinch, but he knew that most people asked for help like this online.
The downside of living life the way he had adapted to it, was that he couldn’t just get a credit card or open a savings account. Too many documents needed and too much attention he’d have to draw to himself. He’d used nearly half of the cash he’d stolen as a downpayment and to convince the landlord to let him rent an apartment with cash payments. He couldn’t afford to have a paper trail.
It very nearly pained him as he punched in the number of the lady looking for a dog walker.
“Hello?” An older woman’s voice crackled through the speaker.
Bucky cleared his throat, trying to put on as much false charm as he could, attempting to recall what one of the news clippings had referred to as his “unbridled charisma” from his old life. “Hello ma’am, I saw your post about needing someone to walk your dogs. I was wondering if you were still looking for someone?” He bit his tongue as soon as he had finished speaking. He barely recognized his own voice most days.
The woman was practically ecstatic as she accepted his help, completely ignoring any anxiety that may have seeped through his voice. She lived alone on the first floor of the complex. She would pay Bucky–or Mike as he was currently going by–twenty bucks for taking her dogs out in the morning, then another twenty for taking them out in the evening. All in all, it was nearly three-hundred a week that Bucky could use to pay his rent and if he was lucky, buy groceries.
The first couple of weeks, Bucky had grown accustomed to this routine. He would wake up at 6 am, often with the sun rising through the cheap blinds he had pulled tight as possible. By 7, he would be jogging down the stairs of the complex to Ms. Rodriguez’s apartment. He would knock on the door and wait a few moments as he listened to the quiet shuffling of the elderly woman. Knowing he was decades older than her had given him a lot to think about. It should have made him laugh, but all it did was make him mourn the life he could’ve had if he’d never been drafted or never been captured by Hydra. The life he could’ve lived if he had been allowed to live.
Ms. Rodriguez opened the door with a kind smile on her face. Her two dogs, Louis and Bella, were both pitbulls she had fostered and subsequently failed. Bucky couldn’t lie, the two dogs had become the better parts of his days. Bella had warmed up to him first, Louis being quick to follow after. Bella was brown with white spots and Louis was white with brown spots.
Ms. Rodriguez let him into her apartment. The dogs immediately ran up to him, licking his non-gloved hand as he bent down to pet them. He didn’t consider himself a dog person, finding taking care of animals to be a non-essential hobby that he couldn’t afford. But he could do this.
He got the dogs into their harnesses and clipped their respective leashes. Ms. Rodriguez waved them goodbye as she sipped her tea from her recliner.
The dogs were well-behaved, something he hadn’t fully expected once the old woman had filled him in on their background. They had both been strays, abandoned on the side of a highway. She’d told him they’d been starved to the bone when she first took them in from the shelter they had been brought to. Now, nearly 6 years later, they were both happy and healthy.
A year ago, she’d broken her hip and found taking them on walks to be increasingly difficult. Now, the dogs went with Bucky on his morning run. He took them to the nearest park, lightly jogging at a pace the dogs were comfortable with.
For adult dogs who likely hadn’t run in years, these dogs were thrilled. Tongues lapping, ears flapping in the wind. He slowed to a stop, unscrewing a water bottle and pouring it into the bowl he often brought with him on these runs. They’d been going for a solid hour at this point and the dogs had earned a well-deserved break. So Bucky let them rest while he sat on a bench and people-watched. He decided that was easier to describe it as rather than the reality which was that he was scanning for threats, trying to decide if someone was following him, or if Hydra was watching him.
“Excuse me?” Bucky glanced at the voice. It was a young boy, bright face, brown curly hair, practically bouncing up and down as he eyed the two dogs panting next to the bench. “Can I pet your dogs?” He asked excitedly.
Bucky gave him a nod. This kid clearly had no idea who he was, too focused on the dogs. It was a risk, but one that he didn’t determine to be a big enough risk.
The dogs loved the attention, immediately jumping on the boy and licking his face when he crouched down to their level. He was full of laughter, giggling as they licked him.
He poked his head up, staring at Bucky again. “What are their names?”
Bucky cleared his throat, “Louis and Bella.” He pointed to the respective dog as he spoke.
The boy grinned. “Hi Louis! Hi Bella!” He gave them pats as he then introduced himself to them. “My name is Peter!” He looked at Bucky for a third time, aggravating the older man who just wanted to be left alone. “How old are they?”
“They’re 7.” He answered.
“Oh my goodness! They look so young. You must keep them in good shape, huh?” The boy smiled happily, still petting the dogs as he tried to make conversation with Bucky.
Bucky sighed, knowing the boy wasn’t leaving any time soon. “They’re not mine. Lady who lives in my building can’t walk them anymore so I’ve been taking them out with me.”
“That’s very nice of you.” The boy’s smile was infectious and Bucky wanted nothing to do with him. Maybe that was just his age showing or his newfound fear of people in general.
Bucky hummed in response and returned to “people watching” as the boy continued to entertain the dogs. It took another five minutes before the boy had gotten his fill and bid the dogs and Bucky goodbye. As soon as he was out of sight, Bucky let out a deep breath, thankful that the kid was gone. The dogs had finished drinking their water and were ready to finish their run and head back to the apartment building successfully tired out and ready for a nice long nap.
A/N: Thank you for reading!! This is hopefully going to be the fic I actually update. I read Astronomy in Reverse on Ao3 for the first time, and it brought back a lot of my desire to write recreationally again. I also watched homecoming and far from home last night so. Anyway I hope you enjoyed and I will hopefully have another chapter out soon that will probably just get posted on Ao3, we'll see.
