Chapter Text
In all honesty, Bucky really should've known better. He knows that. He's not stupid. Well, usually. He feels pretty fucking dumb right now, staring at a mission packet, his partner listed as one Baron Helmut Zemo. And come on, what kind of a name is Helmut anyway? Pretentious, and annoying.
Bucky shakes his head and sighs, scowling at the pages in front of him. Everything always goes sideways somehow. He'd been doing good, making progress in therapy, keeping up with Sam and even made a new, acquaintance? Not friend, but he hangs out with her and they chat sometimes. But they're neighbors, and she's married to a police officer, good guy really, it's not easy being a Brooklyn cop. Especially not a black Brooklyn cop. So they chat over coffee or muffins when Joe works a lot, he gets to pet their dog. To leave all of this for a 5 month mission to coastal Mississippi to flush out AIM cells doesn't sound like his idea of a good time. Throw in Zemo and it's the perfect storm to make him jump off a roof.
"Of course." Bucky mutters to himself, pulling his phone out of his pocket. He snaps a picture and sends it to Sam over their encrypted app. His screen lights up less than 30 seconds later.
"You gotta be messing with me man." Sam's voice is broken by static, like he's talking to him over a coms mic.
"Swear to God this is what I just opened up. Who's bright idea was this?" Bucky groans, leaning back in his seat.
"Well, bright side is you'll be like, 40 minutes away from Sarah and the boys so if he starts actin' up you can escape." A clang sounds from the background of Sam's call, and Bucky snorts. "Shut up man I'm multi tasking! There's no one here, I'm board."
"Sure Cap." A grin settles itself onto his face, some of the crushing weight lifted from his shoulders as he and Sam talk about various ways to annoy the Baron while on their mission.
"You gotta get one of the regular sized safe houses, like two rooms, one bathroom and decorated in that real tacky southern mawmaw style." Sam says, and Bucky can picture the chaotic ensemble filling a room while Zemo stands shocked in the center of it.
"He'd go on a rant about the 'lack of style and decorum' and start spouting some crazy shit. I might have to actually, that's a decent idea."
"It's the best idea, better than anything your cyborg ass would'a come up with and you know it." Bucky can hear the smirk on Sam's face, and he considers hanging up.
"Why did I call you again?"
"Cause I'm smarter than you." Oh yea, definitely hanging up.
"Well gee Sam look at the time I really need to go take the fish for a walk, talk to you soon buddy."
"Ahh c'mon man don't be like that! I know you ain't got no fish!" Sam cackles, and Bucky hangs up with a sigh, grin still firmly in place.
Reading through the rest of the file, he takes a legal pad out and begins to take notes and make plans for different cells, jotting down equipment needs and making a list of gear they'll require. It takes the better part of two days, and by the time he walks in for the mission briefing, he has a folder stuffed full of notes.
***
"You do realize this could cause you to backslide tremendously, don't you?" Raynor sighs, placing a hand on her notepad while she frowns at Bucky.
"Well doc, I didn't have time to ask, oh so politely, if they could maybe please not partner me with the last guy to activate the winter soldier, while I was being briefed about the terrorists." Bucky can feel the sarcasm and annoyance dripping from his words like a soggy towel. Raynor sighs again, clicking her pen and jotting down another note.
"Oh perfect, okay. Fantastic doc, way to deescalate the situation." He laughs bitterly, leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest. Fuck therapy. What good does this do him, really?
"So, how are you planning to handle being around him?"
"Same way I handled him in Europe. If he starts getting into my head, I-"
"Do not say punch him, for the love of God."
"I wasn't." God he sounds like a sassy child. "I was going to say I tell him to fuck off and remind him that I'm 'James Bucky Barnes, and I'm no longer the winter soldier'." He wants to punch himself in the face for sounding so petulant holy shit.
"Uh huh, okay so what's the plan if he keeps pushing?"
"I'll be less than an hour away from Sam's sister, if it gets really bad I can call her or go stay there for a night or two."
"You're not worried about AIM tracking you? Following you there?" Raynor asks, sounding more. Bucky sighs this time.
"Not really, I'm good at going undetected if I need to. I wouldn't rock her or the kids." He answers, shaking his head. "I'm already planning on seeing her while I'm down there, she said the boys wanna see me." He's pretty sure this is the first genuine smile of his to grace this room. Raynor looks surprised, and for once her note on the notepad doesn't feel passive aggressive.
"Well that's good. That's actually good. Shit that might be the first good thing I've heard from you in the last six weeks."
"Okay." Aaaand back to our regularly scheduled program.
***
Another day, another army aircraft hanger.
Another day, another bag packed with the bare minimum and a government credit card sitting in his wallet hooked to an account that's monitored by his very own FBI agent on the joint team cell back in DC.
Another day of feeling like a robot.
Hold up ID at the gate.
BEEP.
Drive to the hangar.
Hold up paperwork for the chartered plane.
Yes sir right this way.
Smile and say thank you otherwise he's going to think you're a serial killer.
Well, is he wrong?
Yes. Yes damn it!
I am James Bucky Barnes, I am not longer the Winter Soldier.
... I'm barely anyone anymore.
Wait near the pallet of gear being delivered to the house disguised as an HVAC unit.
Sweat. Because it's a May heatwave in Delaware.
Board the plane 2 hours late, because the government doesn't give a shit.
Sit in silence with a book he pretends to read for 5 hours on the flight down.
Walk to his issued car from the airport, an air freshener hanging on the rearview and a charging cable already plugged in.
Drive an hour and 45 minutes south to Dixie, a tiny little town just outside of Hattiesburg.
***
Pulling up to the brick house Bucky feels a soft breath of air leaves him. It's a beautiful house, if a little weathered, that seems to settle something in his chest. A wide wrap around porch draws his eyes, as does a bench swing hanging within it. He pulls the car into the garage, shutting but not locking the door, and hefts his bag onto his shoulder as he walks towards the front door. Stepping onto the porch, he turns and looks out at the road. It relives him further that he can't see the mailbox from the front door, not by a long shot.
He looks up, searching for cameras he knows are there, and sees a knothole in the wood right near the door with a slightly shiny reflection within. He waves to the tech on the other end.
The roof is painted a soft, gentle blue color, unlike the white of the rest of the porch and Bucky finds he likes the soft pop of color. He opens the red painted door and walks into a house he can only describe as Homey.
The entryway flows into a large living room, all painted a warm golden yellow. The large windows overlooking the porch are framed by dark stained wood, and the trim within the area is all dark brown as well. There's a massive couch in the living room, tan with pink roses covering it and Bucky snorts. He can't wait to hear Zemo comment about that monstrosity. However, the two Bordeaux wingback chairs near the windows are a different story, he can't wait to sink into one with a mug of coffee and a book. There's lamps near all the seating options, as well as a wealth of plants that Bucky prays have instructions on how to keep alive. One looks like a small tree, how is he supposed to keep an indoor tree alive?!
Making his way towards the bedrooms, he walks down the golden painted hallway. The first bedroom is a bit small, but set up with a full sized bed, a dresser and sitting chair with robins egg blue walls. The second is larger, walls a rich forest green with a queen sized bed and bench at the foot of it. A vanity and dresser sit in the corner, and large windows overlook the back yard. The bathroom is directly across the hall from this room, surprising him with both a tub and walk in shower, the ceramic double vanity brilliant white over rich wood and a clean white tiled floor.
The third bedroom he instantly knows is going to be the Baron's. Wether he sleeps in it until he arrives or not, this room will end up housing the obnoxious man. The bed is still a queen, but it has hanging curtains around it, a sitting area and en suit set aside. The room is a soft chamise green, all fabrics either ivory or a warm beige. A plush comforter instead of a cozy quilt, a mountain of throw pillows littered over the bed resting against an ornate headboard. Yea, this is far too gaudy and fluffy for his liking.
Bucky turns on his heal and walks down towards the second bedroom, setting his duffle down on the bench at the edge of the bed. He breathes deep, letting the reality wash over him, then starts unpacking his meager belongings. He knows he'll be going out to get more clothes on Monday, as well as picking up a few suits that were pre-ordered, but he can't help but feel a gray muck settle as he sets his toothbrush and tube of toothpaste onto the countertop in the bathroom. All his other toiletries remain in the bag next to them.
Once he's satisfied with 'settling' into the his new bedroom, he wanders out to find the kitchen. And hoo boy, what a kitchen it is. The floor is a black and white checkered pattern, shiney tiles gleaming in the setting sun. The cabinets are all a brilliant teal, and so are the vintage style appliances, right down to the gas stove. The walls are a plain eggshell white but everything else is oversaturated with teal. There's a few pops of yellow, a utensil holder and a series of jars on the counter, plus a wooden bread box. He freezes in the doorway, a small smile creeping onto his face. Then, without his permission, a laugh explodes out of him. He belly laughs, head thrown back, leaning against the door frame for support and fumbles for his phone, FaceTimeing Sam.
"Hey Buc- Whoa man, what's goin' on?" Sam answers, a startled laugh easing the shock on his face.
"You're not gonna believe this shit!" Bucky wheezes, flipping his camera to show the kitchen. He watches the shock turn into delight on Sam's face as he takes in the black white and teal monstrosity.
"Sam! Sam he's gonna loose his mind!"
"OH MY GOD HE'S GOING TO SEE THIS!"
"YES!"
"BUCK OH MY GOD!"
"I KNOW!" Both men are wheezing and chocking on their laughter, tears stream down Bucky's face as he tries desperately to regain his composure.
"Man you gotta video his reaction, for me, please I gotta see that." Sam sighs, a few stray chuckles making their way into his sentence.
"I'm gonna try, he's gonna know somethin's up but honestly I don't care. Shit, I don't remember the last time I laughed like that." Bucky leans back against the wall, panting with a smile on his face. The two men chat back and forth, Bucky gives Sam a quick tour of the house and property. They say goodbye and Bucky manages to actually find food in the kitchen, heating up a premade lasagna and eating the entire tray that, according to the box, was meant for 8 people. Or one hungry super soldier. He chugs half a carton of milk, because he grew up in the 20s and 30s and that habit just stuck damn it.
Crawling into his surprisingly comfortable bed, Bucky sighs and looks out the large windows. He's pleasantly surprised to find a sky absolutely filled with stars and the sound of crickets and cicadas serenading him into a dreamless sleep. Maybe this wouldn't be as terrible as he thought.