Haunting Me (Chap. 5)
Haunting Me: Y/N is a normal young adult living in New York, but little does she know that she’s a reincarnation of the long lost Bucky Barnes’ fiance from the 1940′s. What happens when she runs into Steve in 2012? Most importantly, what happens when she runs into The Winter Soldier?
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x POC Reader
Warnings: Mentions of racism. Flashbacks. Angst.
Since the little occurrence at the motel twenty four hours ago, you’ve been held in the Stark tower and interrogated by Alexander Pierce himself. He was convinced that you were working with Bucky and conspiring with him on multiple terrorist attacks, which was highly untrue. You had a perfectly clean record; you hadn’t even missed a single day of school until now, so the thought of you having anything to do with The Winter Soldier and Hydra was complete bullshit according to Nick Fury.
He was there the entire time as well, countering every little accusation that Pierce threw at you with hard facts. Every attack that had happened in the last few months happened while you were seeing by numerous people on the other side of the city. Hell, even your professor confirmed your whereabouts on those dates, but that didn’t stop Pierce from threatening you.
“I think we’re forgetting that she was kidnapped,” Fury spoke as he crossed his arms. “And held hostage for an entire day and a half. There were multiple witnesses that saw him not only chasing her, but abducting her as well.”
“Which is why I believe she knows something,” Pierce countered, peering over at you with a frustrated scowl. “Why on earth would Hydra’s top assassin go absolutely haywire and kidnap this random woman? Why her? What made him act that way?”
You rolled your eyes and took another sip of your coffee. You were beyond exhausted and wanted nothing more than to crawl into your bed and sleep forever. You hoped and prayed that Bucky would magically appear in your apartment, but you knew the chances were slim to none.
“Can I leave now?” you asked, your eyes staring at the metal table below you.
“No,” Pierce spoke briefly, before standing from the chair. Without another word, he left the room, slamming the door shut behind him.
“Look, kid,” Fury sighed as he sat in the empty chair across from you. He rubbed his temples with his fingertips. “Did the guy mention anything to you? Where he was going or anything like that?”
You shook your head, feeling the familiar burn of tears threating to form in your eyes. “No,” you answered, swallowing the lump in your throat. He didn’t mention anything. You both were pretty preoccupied before Steve popped up, but you completely left those intimate parts out. You didn’t exactly fancy talking about your sexual escapades with random people.
“Alright,” he nodded, giving you a tight smile as he stood from the chair. “We’re gonna have you fill out some paperwork and you’ll be on your way. I’ll send Rogers in here; he’s dying to talk to you.”
You nodded, giving him a small smile. However, on the inside, you were screaming. You had so many bones to pick with Steve at the moment; you wanted all of your questions answered immediately.
A few minutes after Fury excused himself, the door squeaked open and you heard the familiar sound of a shield being set down against the floor. The sound of a chair scraping against the floor filled the room, followed by a deep sigh.
“Did you know?” you asked, avoiding his eyes.
After a long, pregnant pause he answered.
“How long?” you demanded.
“The entire time,” he admitted, his eyes filled with sadness. You scoffed.
“You knew me,” you confirmed. “The old me. Jane.”
Steve’s eyes lit up as soon as he heard the name fell from your lips. He nodded once again, sniffling softly. You looked over at him, expecting him to be in tears of sadness, but instead, you found him smiling. You looked down at the manila folder in his hands curiously, your eyes flickering back to him.
“What’s that?” you asked warily.
Steve placed the folder down on the table and gently slid it towards you.
“It’s your life, Y/N.” He replied. You inhaled deeply as you opened the folder.
Inside there was a giant older photo of you, smiling brightly. It looked as though it was taken in one of those old school photo booths from the Coney Island carnivals. Your hair was curled in the typical 1940’s fashion, your lips dark with the red lipstick you always wore. Your dress was a deep red with little white polka dots. Beside you was Bucky. He grinned that same dorky grin from your memory as he wrapped his arm around your shoulder and leaned his head against yours. He looked so happy and full of life.
You both did.
“What happened to me?” you asked, feeling the tears run down your cheeks.
“In 1943, you were diagnosed with lung cancer from second hand smoke. You died six months later.” Steve replied, blinking away his own tears that threatened to fall.
The next photo was one of the three of you. Steve was in the middle, with you and Bucky on either sides of him, holding up what looked to be a birthday cake. You let out a small laugh at the sight of tiny, pre-serum Steve with a party hat perched on his head. The three of you looked as though you were laughing hysterically, enjoying each other’s company.
You flipped over to the third photo, which was a black and white picture. It was taken at the beach this time. Only, instead of Bucky or Steve, your arm was wrapped around a very beautiful and much younger brunette and vice versa. She was holding a lollipop in her hand, her head resting on your shoulder as she grinned. You squinted as you took in her features. She was familiar, but not enough to ring any bells.
“Who is this?” you asked, picking the photo up.
“That’s Rebecca Barnes, Bucky’s younger sister.” Steve answered, smiling sheepishly. “That was taken on the day you both met for the first time. Bucky took the picture.”
You felt your head ache once again, and this time, you didn’t fight it.
“Okay, dolls,” Bucky laughed as he peered into the camera and aimed it at the two of you. “Make sure you actually look this time, this film is expensive as hell.”
Usually, people didn’t lean in too close to you. They usually awkwardly stood beside as if they were forced by some invisible threat. No one liked taking pictures with colored people, and that instantly sent a wave of anxiety through you. But to your surprise, Rebecca scooted as close to you as possible and flung her arm over your shoulders. She rested her head on your shoulder and grinned.
You swore you felt your heart nearly fly out of your chest. Nevertheless, you found yourself smiling like an idiot at the camera.
“Okay you two,” he exclaimed. “On three!”
You both stood as still as possible as he pressed the button, causing the giant flash to temporarily blind you both. You giggled as you rubbed your eyes, trying to rid your sight of the little dark spots that swarmed your vision.
But just as you set your hands down, you felt Rebecca lean in close to your ear and cup her hands around her mouth, her eyes flickering over to Bucky as he fiddled with the camera.
“I’m so glad I met you, Jane!” she whispered with a smile. “I’ve always wanted a sister!”
“Y/N?” Steve repeated, this time his voice was a bit louder. You blinked, shaking your head.
“I remember!” you breathed, peering back up at a highly concerned Steve as he stared back at you in confusion. “She told me a secret that day.”
“I know,” Steve chuckled as he took the photo from your hand and stared down at it. “You wouldn’t stop talking about it for days. It took you an entire week for you to finally shut up.”
You both let out a laugh, a genuine laugh that held no type of ill feelings or nervousness.
You found out a whole lot about yourself the past two years.
Your name was Jane Collins; you lived with your younger sister, June. You grew up in New York City with your family. You wanted to become an actress like your idol, Judy Garland. You absolutely loved polka dot dresses and worked at an ice cream shop named Lucy’s, where you met Bucky in 1939.
Out of all the things you couldn’t stand, you absolutely hated cigarettes. The mere smell of them made you automatically nauseous, which was so ironic, seeing as you ended up addicted to them in this life.
However, as you began regaining memories, you began to wonder if Y/N Y/L/N was even a real person anymore. Should you go by your new name in this life, or should you be Jane? You were so confused.
“Your life now is a fresh start,” Natasha told you one day as you both met for lunch. The sun shined down on her fiery red hair, giving you a perfect muse to draw later. “Sometimes it’s best to leave the past in the past.”
Those words struck you like a cord. She was right. As much as you wanted to be Jane for Steve, you weren’t that woman anymore. Sure, it would cause comfort for him, but you were you. You had to live in the moment and be who yourself.
Ever since you found out your true nature, Steve began bringing you around the tower more often. You quickly formed a friendship with everyone, especially Wanda, who was intrigued by your story the most. You began to think of the Avengers as a little second family.
You spent your days attending school, trying to focus on your career and your studies. But no matter what, your thoughts always went back to the same man, Bucky Barnes. Where was he? Was he safe? You prayed he was.
Natasha had tried to set you up with a few men here and there, but you found yourself denying them each time. It wasn’t out of spite or anything, you just…weren’t interested. Truth be told, you weren’t interested in anyone else than a certain brown haired super soldier. You knew it was childish, but you didn’t care anymore. You wanted to see him again, and if that meant waiting around like a crazy cat lady, so be it. Steve tried to tell you how unrealistic that was, but you only responded by raising your fuzzy sock covered foot and giving him a gentle kick to the face, sending him flying off your couch.
You made your way up the final stair case in exhaustion. Your hands were occupied by your large, freshly dried canvas that you would be turning in for your final tomorrow. This would be your final project before graduation and you had to make sure it was perfect, even if that meant staying up until five am like you did the night before.
When you approached your door, fishing your keys out of your coat pocket, you froze.
Your door was open.
Sometimes, you tended to rush as you left and forgot simple things, but not once had you forgotten to lock your door –much less forgetting to close it. You gently pushed the door open, wincing as it squeaked loudly. That was the worst idea ever.
You peeked inside your darkened living room. Everything looked exactly the same; nothing was missing from what you could tell. You took a wary step into the room, setting your canvas down against the wall and pulling out your small stun gun that Tony had given you for your birthday this year.
You found it extremely odd that someone would break in, only to leave everything there and not take anything. You made your way into your bedroom, kicking the door open and peeking inside. Nothing. Not even the light was on. You turned around and made your way into the second room in your apartment, which was strictly used for your paintings.
Immediately, you began to panic. What if someone from school vandalized your paintings? You had an entire year’s worth of work in there; most of it was going into the gallery as well. You felt your heart race as you neared the door, which was slightly ajar. Completely not how you left it. With a deep breath, you opened the door.
And you felt your heart drop into your stomach.
“W-What the fuck?” you breathed, your eyes filling with tears.
You watched as a very normal Bucky Barnes turned around and looked into your eyes. Instead of the cold, dead ones you came in contact with two years ago, you were faced with two lively, ocean blue orbs. They were beautiful, even more than you remembered.
“Hello, Y/N,” he spoke, his eyes staring into yours.
You blinked, unable to form any coherent sentences.
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