Character: James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes
Original Character: Kayla J. Fury/Shadow
Prompt(s): Memory + Backpack
Setting: Safehouse, Germany (post-Berlin, pre-airport)
Content Warnings: slight mention of blood/bodily injury, past references to Captain America: The Winter Soldier,
A note from Demi: Since today marks the end of the @teamcap10 anniversary event, this is my last official post. I’ll probably post my other works later, just because. Anyway, since this is my last official post, at least it’s with my Kayla/Bucky ficlet, which I was excited to work on just because I love this pairing so much. Anyway, hope ya’ll enjoy!
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The Berlin safehouse was quiet once Sam and Steve left. Kayla led Bucky to the small bathroom, grabbing the first aid kit from under the sink.
Bucky sat on the edge of the tub, elbows braced on his knees, head bowed slightly. Blood from the cut near his hairline had long since dried, caking in the dark brown locks.
He hasn’t said much since he woke up, save for some information about what the fake psychiatrist wanted from him, the information about more Winter Soldiers at an old HYDRA base in Siberia.
He hadn’t even looked at Kayla directly. But that was mostly because every time he even glanced at her, he remembered the words she said to him on the bank of the Potomac rivier, “You don’t have to be what they made you.”
The soft exhale snapped Bucky from his thoughts, glancing up just enough to see her standing in front of him, first aid kit in hand.
“I was gonna clean the blood from the cut on your forehead, if that’s alright?” She asked, her normal raspy voice soft and steady as she took another step forward, her knees bumping his.
Bucky didn’t say anything, just gave a small nod. His eyes lowered to her side, making out the outline of the large gauze bandage he knew was covering the healing scratches from T’Challa’s claws. The wound she sustained shielding him from the Wakandan monarch.
He felt Kayla’s fingers under his chin, tilting his head up so she could see the cut on his forehead better.
“Looks like it healed.” She noted, taking the damp cloth and dabbing at the dried blood. “Just gonna clean up the blood.”
Bucky swallowed the lump in his throat, watching her as she cleaned the wound. The sunlight filtering through the glass window made her hair glow against her fair skin, even catching tiny flakes of green in her hazel eyes.
“You usually do this?” he asked after a few minutes.
“What?” Kayla chuckled, “Patch people up?”
“Trust them enough to get this close.”
Kayla’s lips curled into a smile as she cleaned away the last remnants of blood on his temple, “When it’s someone I have a good feeling about, then yes.”
“And you have a good feeling about me?” Bucky asked, not believing she could see any good in him, the man who was once called The Fist of HYDRA. “I killed your dad. Tried to kill you.”
“Actually, you didn’t. Nick Fury is very much alive.” Kayla corrected, putting the first aid kit back under the sink. “And yet, even with HYDRA’s orders in your head, you still couldn’t kill me. You even saved me…twice.”
She turned on her heels and walked into the small living room, grabbing a plastic bag from beside the couch, setting it on the old wood table.
“…Where’d you get that?” Bucky asked, his voice rough when he saw the backpack on the table.
“I took from the CIA building.” Kayla answered nonchalantly, sliding the bag across the table. “Since you wouldn’t leave your apartment in Bucharest without it, I figured it must be important to you.”
She watched as Bucky held the bag tight, as if he was testing to make sure it was real. His throat bobbed as he swallowed, slowly unzipping the backpack. The contents were something no would bat an eye at; A few notebooks, some folded up pages from files, a black cloth bag closed with drawstrings.
“You’ve had enough taken from you.” Kayla spoke again after a few minutes of silence, stepping up beside him. “I wasn’t gonna let a bunch of spineless government suits take anything else.“
Bucky looked down at her, seeing the same thing in her eyes he’s seen in the past when their path’s crossed; like she saw something beneath the cold exterior of the Winter Soldier. And now, he saw something else; a sense of understanding.
“I know you barely know me, outside of my SHIELD dossier, anyway.” Kayla shrugged, brushing her bangs aside. “But you can trust me, Bucky.” Without thinking about it, she placed her hand on his arm, her eyes still on him.
Bucky tensed for a split second, not used to any sort of gentleness, not like how Kayla was being with him in that moment. This was the same former SHIELD agent who charged headfirst into battle against him, twice, and showed no fear whatsoever. Even after he’d shot her on the Helicarrier, she still helped free him when he was trapped under debris. Even bleeding out on the bank of the Potomac River, she still held onto his tactical vest and told him he didn’t have to be what HYDRA made him.
All Kayla had seen personally of Bucky was the Winter Soldier, only knowing about his past from old SHIELD files. She’d seen the worst of him and still looked at him like he mattered.
Bucky held her gaze, still aware of her hand on his sleeve.
And he believed he could trust her.
“…You didn’t have to grab the bag,” he spoke after another few minutes of silence.
Kayla gently squeezed his arm, her thumb softly caressing the sleeve of his red Henley. “Yeah, I did.” She replied. “After everything HYDRA took from you, you deserve to keep something that’s yours.”
Her hand moved down his arm to cover his hand, her thumb caressing the warm skin. “You’re not the Winter Soldier anymore. And you’ll never have to be again.”
And Bucky believed her. This former SHIELD agent turned rogue Avenger, who somehow understood him in a way that no one else could.
