Who: Bucky Barnes and Alyssa Hamilton What: Alyssa's gift gets a workout Where: Outside Steve's apartment, where Bucky has been staying When: 5/2 Rating: PG13, discussion of murders, loss, violence Status: Complete
It was rare that a ghost called for Alyssa’s attention, but when she heard a woman call out to her, Alyssa’s head turned. She blinked when she saw the figure waving from the window, delighted she could still be seen.
Instead of reaching for her bow, Alyssa moved to sit, realizing that this ghost wasn’t violent, and listening to her story. It was in that way that Alyssa came to have a mission in finding one James Buchanan Barnes.
Sitting on the front stoop, she figured he’d have to come home soon. The woman had said so.
Bucky had been out at the gym, doing the reps that Steve had suggested for him to do. They were getting steadily easier, but he still somehow felt exposed. He tried to go at off times, to minimize the amount of people who could be there to stare at him.
He was heading along the sidewalk now, though when he saw the slight redhead sitting on the doorstep he almost thought it was Natasha. Just for a second. Upon blinking, he realized it wasn’t at all - Natasha would never dress so innocently. “Hi. Um. If you’re looking for Steve, he might not be back for a while. He’s got work to do, or so he said.”
Alyssa stood up, dusting off the dirt from her skirt. She bit her lower lip, lowering her eyes. “Um, hi. I’m not waiting for Steve. Is your name James, by any chance? Bucky?”
“Yes. Why?” Bucky had been taught by circumstance - and Nat - to be careful.
“This is going to sound mental. Do you - you have the dream, right? Your arm came from them.” It sounded weird to say out loud, but the woman had said to tell him that.
“Yes.” Bucky was instantly on his guard. “I have them. I’m guessing you do too. If you’re with them, I’ll kill you even if you look like a sweet little girl, by the way.”
“I do, yes.” Alyssa looked down at her feet. “In the dreams - and now in my life - I can see ghosts.” She looked up at the window where the woman was waiting, back to the sun. “She told me to talk to you.”
“Ghosts?” Bucky echoed, not entirely sure what to make of that. “I mean ... I’ve heard weirder. But really?” He followed her eyeline, but couldn’t see anything.
In a flash it dawned on him what she meant, and he rounded on her. “I don’t know who you are, okay, but that isn’t funny.”
“I can prove it.” She held her hands out in front of her, palms up. In a flicker of light, suddenly she was holding a bow, levelling it at the man in front of her. “You met when she was auditioning at a burlesque club. You were the pianist, and she liked you right away. She always called you Buck. She was paranoid about the scars she got from her dreams, but she says you handled it like a saint. You can’t sleep some nights and you worry that your friend Steve is going to leave someday because of what you do in your dreams.”
Well, the bow that looked like it was made of light went a long way toward proving she had supernatural powers. Bucky raised an eyebrow, but then when he actually paid attention to what she was saying, he deflated. “That’s not funny,” he repeated, but it was softer, defanged. Pained. “I - I never believed in any of that silliness.” As if that would insulate him from whatever was happening right now.
“It’s not funny at all,” she murmured. “I’m sorry. But it exists regardless of our belief in it.” Sort of like global warming, but she wasn’t going to make that joke. He was too obviously upset.
Bucky looked at her for a long minute, then took a long, deep breath, mostly to reorient himself. “Okay. I’m not trying to be rude, but why come to me with this? What’s your name, anyway?”
She let the arrow of light she’d had nocked and ready disappear, sighing. “My name’s Alyssa Hamilton. I came to you because she stopped me. She realized I could see her and wanted to talk to you.”
“She stopped you?” The words were hard, bitter, like chewing on a peach pit. He had to process each part of this ridiculous situation one by one, but when he got to a truth, it made him stop and look up at her. “She can’t still be here. She’s gone.”
“I just told you things about yourself I couldn’t have possibly known, Mr. Barnes.” She sighed and sat back down. “What will it take you to believe?”
That irritated him more than it probably should have. “How the hell would you feel?” Bucky nearly shouted, throwing up his hands. “If someone you love died and then some smarmy little girl shows up on your doorstep telling you she can see ghosts?” She was asking too much. “Besides, even if I do take it at face value, little missy, she’s not supposed to be here, okay? There was a service! We laid her to rest! I damn near wanted to jump into the hole.” His voice cracked noticeably, and he looked away, trying to calm down, knowing it wasn’t productive.
Alyssa’s eyes watered over, and she could feel ghostly hands touching her shoulders. “She stayed for you,” she murmured. “Jean wants you to know it’s not your fault. It never was. She died loved, and that was enough for her.” The woman with the lovely curves and perfect hair moved to wrap her arms around Bucky, stroking his hair, and Alyssa wondered if he could feel it. It made Alyssa smile, and she wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand.
Bucky did feel a gasp of wind at his back. He closed his eyes, feeling it float through his unkempt hair. “Won’t she get angry?” he murmured right back, eyes filling with tears. All he knew about ghosts was from horror movies, and he hoped that his question was silly and stupid.
Alyssa sniffled, wiping her eyes again and smiling. “Ghosts that don’t really realize they’re dead do. Some people - usually people who’ve died during great stress or anger or fear - they linger because they don’t know to go up or down. That’s usually who I see, and it’s my job to send them. But your Jean, she chose to stay. She knows she’s dead, she knows how it happened, she knows she’s meant to go up, but she asked to stay and look after you.”
“I don’t understand.” Bucky blinked his own tears away, but he couldn’t keep his voice even. “They shot her. How is that not dying in ... how was she not terrified?” To not be frightened - that was beyond him. None of it made any sense.
“She says it’s better than what she went through in her dreams. She doesn’t want to tell me about that, but says you’ll know what she means. But also that you loved her. She says that dying loved was the most important thing to her.” Alyssa stood up, in case he wanted to go inside.
“Her dreams were fucking horrible, let’s leave it there.” Bucky cleared his throat, knowing he sounded so exhausted. But hearing that Jean hadn’t been scared made him feel humble, which made him feel worse. “You never really met her,” he said, turning back toward the girl. “You didn’t really know her. She was a saint. Just a saint. More than I deserved.”
It hurt. God, it hurt. It was coming home to it all over again, and he roughly wiped his eyes.
“She feels the same about you. She’s holding you right now. You might feel the weight if you close your eyes.” Alyssa too was crying, trying to be quiet. She could feel Jean’s emotions, the weight of her love an almost tangible force on her shoulders.
For the first time, though, that made him smile. “She did always say stuff like that. I used to wonder if she was looking at the same guy.” No need to go into the interesting forms of self-loathing that had managed to take root in his gut. Bucky wiped his eyes again. “I ... she needs to go,” he said. “Needs to rest.”
“She says she will when you forgive yourself enough. When you’re less angry.” Really, Alyssa felt almost as much of a wreck as Bucky and Jean, but she was holding things together.
“I have to be angry.” Bucky could sort of tell; he saw her posture and her own tears, but it was hard to keep anything together. “It’s - Jeannie,” he said, addressing her for the first time, feeling his voice crack again. “Jeannie, being mad’s better than feeling dead inside. I know it sounds stupid and self-indulgent, but I can’t live like a robot. I’m sorry, Jeannie.” He was crying now, and couldn’t help it.
Standing up, Alyssa reached out to wrap her arms around Bucky. She cried and let him cry, supporting him and hating that she had this gift. “I’m so sorry I told you. But I had to,” she murmured. Jean understood that Bucky had to be angry, and so did Alyssa. But that didn’t make it easier.
“I don’t want her to be angry,” he managed, still sobbing, appreciating the physical support. “I can’t live with that.”
“She’s not. She’s not angry,” Alyssa murmured. “She knows why you are, and she understands, but she wants you to know that it’ll pass. The anger. But she’ll love you forever. She wants you to know that never stops.”
It didn’t feel like it, but he knew it as well. He did his best to calm down, suddenly wanting to be out of the public eye. Bucky stumbled up the steps, unlocking the door and inviting Alyssa in. After a few minutes, he felt calm enough to speak. “Where is she?”
“Next to you,” Alyssa murmured. She walked behind him, putting the vial of water that turned into her bow back into her backpack. “She watches you, and sometimes she smooths out your hair when you’re upset.”
Bucky couldn’t help but laugh a little in spite of himself. “Oh, boy. Steve’ll think I’ve gone round the bend if I tell him my girl is haunting his apartment.”
“She likes Steve. But you don’t have to tell him if you don’t want to. She promises not to knock anything down or pick anything up when he’s around.” Alyssa smiled sheepishly, sitting down, looking at Bucky to make sure he was all right.
“I might keep that secret.” Natasha would think he was insane, too. “You’re probably the only one who wouldn’t think I needed to be locked up.”
“If it ever comes out, ring me, I’ll come over and back you up.” Alyssa looked at him. “Really, she’s ready to go, but she just ... wants you squared away first, so to speak.”
“I don’t know what’ll happen.” Bucky said, sinking onto the couch. He felt drained, afraid, and unbelievably lonely.
“She doesn’t either, but she just ... wants you to remember you’re loved.” Alyssa dabbed under her eyes, knowing her makeup was smeared beyond repair.
“I have to kill them,” Bucky said, eyes closed. “Or at least help. They need to be wiped out.” He couldn’t even fathom moving on until the organization was exploded.
“Jean says that the woman who shot her was being blackmailed, they had her baby.” It was important to the dead woman that Bucky know that. Alyssa’s mouth twisted. “Is there anything ... I can do to help?”
“Then I’ll kill the people who made her.” Bucky sighed. “I don’t know. I don’t want anyone involved in this that doesn’t have to be.”
“If I can help, I want to.” Alyssa sniffed hard. “It’s the right thing to do.”
“I’ll ... there’s other people. I don’t know what they’d say.” She meant well and he wanted her there now if only because she was his link to Jeannie. But if Natasha or Steve said no, he’d have to go with that.
“Still. I want you to not hesitate to ring me.” Alyssa handed over her phone, smiling. “Put your information in. My boyfriend will understand.” A bad joke, but she wasn’t feeling too terribly cheerful.
“See that he does.” Bucky managed a tiny smile, but it was eclipsed by exhaustion. “I’m ... sorry. I’m glad you told me. But Jesus.”
“I know. I’m not sorry I told you, I’m just sorry I had to. If that makes sense.” She was sorry that shit happened to good people on a daily basis.
“It does.” Bucky was quiet for a while before he finally said, “Will you be pissed if I say I need to be alone?” He just ... needed to be alone, away from everyone. It was sad, scary and confusing, and he didn’t know who he needed to turn to, so he wanted to start with himself.
“Of course not.” Alyssa stood up, pocketing her phone again, glad she had his number. “But should you need me, ever, just ring.”
“And I don’t know ... just for a little while. Is there ... can Jean go with you?” It felt shameful, like a betrayal, but he needed to be utterly alone. “If she can’t leave, I understand. It isn’t personal.”
Alyssa looked at the ghost who nodded, planting a kiss on Bucky’s cheek before disappearing. “She’s gone. She’ll go back to your old flat for the time being.”
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m glad she understood.” It mattered. “I’m tired.”
“If you should want her in future, just ask,” Alyssa murmured. She was tired too. Suddenly she wanted nothing more than to be held by her boyfriend.