Chapter Text
The first time you saw him, you really didn’t think much of him. It was your first day interning at the Smithsonian, and your main priority was to help guests and explain exhibits to them, not to be wary of strange men.
Being straight out of college with a major in American history, you requested on your application to be assigned to the brand new Captain America exhibit. You had a lot of knowledge of WW2, and even wrote your final essay on how Captain America became a symbol of hope for the people - on the field, and back home. So naturally, you really wanted to work that area.
The whole morning started with Daniel, the curator, showing you around the building and how to approach guests; and explain exhibits to people. It was fairly easy, to say at the least. So Daniel assigned you to work with Olivia, another intern who has been working there for a couple months.
So here you were now, explaining to a group of kids how Steve Rogers became a super solider. Several of the little boys wore Cap shirts, and the little girls carried plastic shields. Kids like these are the ones that make your job even more fun.
“Alright, the next exhibit is to your right,” You announced, walking the kids over to the next exhibit. “And can anyone tell me who this man is?” You questioned, pointing to the vintage picture.
“Ooo! That’s Bucky Barnes, he was Caps best friend!” A kid shouted.
Smiling, you replied, “Good job, that’s exactly who he is!”
Olivia took over, giving them an explanation of Bucky. Your focus immediately landed on a man who behind the group of kids, who looked very out of place. He wore a baseball cap, and his clothes looked like they’d been thrown in dirt, and his hands were shoved in his pockets. His long hair was tucked behind his ears, and he had a lot of scruff - which contrasted with his younger looks; making him look older than he probably was. The man was studying the Bucky Barnes exhibit, with calculating eyes. For some reason, he sent a shiver down your body.
Shaking your head, you tore your gaze away from him and focused on Olivia, who was now leading the kids to the Howling Commandos exhibit. Walking behind the group of kids, you looked over shoulder at the man. He had shuffled closer towards the exhibit, and continued to stare at the picture and biography.
That was the first time you saw him.
The second time you saw him, he was still wearing the same outfit, but the bags under his eyes were more apparent. You didn’t notice it the first time.
It was a slow day, being a Monday. Monday’s usually consist of old people with their grandkids. But he was back and returned to the Bucky Barnes exhibit. Again, he just stood there and stared at the biography.
“Hey, is he a regular?” You asked Olivia, as the two of you went through some paperwork.
She glanced over at him, and looked back at you.
“Yep, he’s been coming here everyday for the past month. He always goes to that exhibit.” She explained, as she organized the papers.
“Do you know his name?” You asked, still occasionally glancing over at him.
“Nope, but I think he’s homeless. Daniel said he’s seen him sleeping on the benches outside. It’s quite sad, to be honest.”
You frowned, and felt some sort of protection grow inside of you for him. When you were younger, your parents were big into charities and helping out less fortunate people. You always tagged along with them to soup kitchens and clothing drives. Helping people was always a passion you had, and it was something that’s probably never going to go away.
“I’m gonna go talk to him,” You announced, straightening out your blazer. Before you could walk over there, Olivia lightly grabbed forearm.
“Hey, be careful. He seems shady enough, just- just be careful.”
You gave her a reassuring smile before agreeing, and made your way to the man. You approached the man, and cleared your throat, before saying,
“Bucky Barnes, Captain America’s right hand man,”
His stare turned to you, and you made eye contact with him for the first time. His eyes were blue and there was a hint of confusion in them. Your heart skipped a beat, but kept going.
“He was a sniper, in the Howling Commandos. Most talented one in the 107th, might I add. Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes were the dream team, back during the war. He was the only Howling Commando to give his life for the war. Besides Cap, but that’s a whole different story.” You chuckled.
The man remained quiet, hands still shoved in his pockets. But his eyes returned from confusing, to calculating. Feeling the awkward tension between the two of you, you wiped your clammy hands on your blazer.
“Sorry, I’m a history major and specialize in WW2.” You gave him your name and held out your hand, for him to shake. He just looked down at your hand, and back up at you. Retreating your hand, you crossed them behind your back.
“I see you a lot here, and I figured I could introduce myself,” you said, nicely. “If you have any questions about the exhibit, I’ll be over at that podium over there,” you added, pointing to where Olivia stood. “It was nice meeting you!”
As you begun to walk away, he spoke for the first time.
“My name is James.”
You turned around, and smiled at him. He looked down at his feet, and looked back up at you, eyes peeking out from under his cap.
“I’ll see you around, James.”
That was the second time you saw him.
Bucky Barnes had a routine.
Every morning, Bucky would wake up around sunrise. He’d scrounge up a couple dollars in coins he found on the street and get a cup of the crappy street coffee, near the Smithsonian. Then, he’d walk to the public bathrooms and wash his face up a bit. If he was lucky, he’d find more money in the streets and buy a muffin. If he wasn’t so lucky, he’d swipe some food from a stand. He was good, and never got caught. Then, he’d waste the day away at the Smithsonian; trying to piece the memories back together.
Ever since the Triskelion incident, and his encounters with Steve Rogers, he’d gone M.I.A. He slept on benches and broke into evicted homes when it got too cold. Bucky would often swipe some vodka from a convenience store, and spend his nights drinking the pain away. His serum - wasn’t perfect, like Steve’s. He could get drunk, if he tried really really hard. And oh, how he wishes he could rip the goddamn arm off of his body. It was a reminder to Bucky of what he’s done, and the people he’s killed. There were nights when he’d get drunk and his human hand would be bloody from trying to rip the fucking thing off. But no matter what he did, he always ended up the same: broken, drunk, and angry at himself and the world around him.
At the Smithsonian, he’d always find himself in front of his own memorial. They called him a war hero. Only if they knew. If the people knew what he did - after he fell, he’d be labeled as a monster.
Rarely, did the employees talk to him. They just gave him smile and went about their business, he didn’t blame them. Bucky was grateful that they didn’t talk to him. So, that’s why he was confused when you approached him.
He saw you the previous day, talking with the kids. He noticed that you kept glancing at him, which made him tense. She could be HYDRA. She could be with Rumlow. She could be HYDRA. The way you talked to him though, threw him off.
She was nice. She had a pretty smile. And she seemed to know more about Bucky, than even he knew. But he wanted to remain cautious, and he wanted to know if she really was who she said she was.
So maybe, Bucky would let himself get to know her.
Maybe.