Chapter Text
Chapter XXXII
Before long, shock had settled in Bucky. He couldn't get the image of Lucy's scared expression out of his head, or how he had felt her hand slip out of his.
They didn't go back to the farm house. Bucky didn't think he would be able to even if he wanted to. He couldn't see a place so familiar without her being there. It would hurt too much, and only make the situation real.
He was in shock, refusing to believe what happened. There was no way she was gone. It couldn't have been the case.
Bucky was so in shock that he didn't cry, or yell, or scream and punch something until his knuckles were bloodied. Instead, he just sat there by the fire they had started in the cover of the woods.
They had taken him far away past the river, knowing that the sound of it alone would likely set him off. Jones and Dugan had gone back to retreated Miller's body, since there was actually a body to bury. There was nothing left of Lucy, nothing to solidify for him that she was gone.
Bucky sat in front of the fire that had been built with Whitney across from him. They sat in silence, not saying a single word to one another. He had a blanket wrapped around his shoulders, still feeling the chill from the way the water had soaked him earlier. Even his body was in shock, unable to process all that happened.
"It's okay to cry, y'know." Whitney said suddenly, causing Bucky to look up. For once, the man seemed to not have any animosity in his voice.
Bucky only shook his head. He couldn't cry, he couldn't feel anything, he didn't even think his heart was still beating.
"I won't say anything if you do." Was all Whitney said. He had a different look on his face than what Bucky had seen before. Perhaps it was just the eerie yellow of the fire softening his features in the dark, or maybe there was something else there? Pity maybe, or sadness?
"It doesn't feel real." Was all Bucky could say. He still thought she would walk in from the woods, smile on her face and a mischievous look in her eyes when their gazes met. She would gesture with her head to go meet her in the woods and their lips would collide in passion and he would have her legs wrapped around his hips and push her against a tree, in the exact position they had been earlier.
But she wouldn't. He would never see that expression again, or feel the way her soft lips played on his skin, or notice the attentiveness in her eyes as he spoke.
"I know," Whitney said with a sigh, looking down to the piece of wood he was whittling in his hand. "I know how you feel."
"You have no idea how I feel." Bucky snapped, sneering at the man. How dare he try to relate to him? No one could possibly know how he was feeling in these moments.
"No, I do." Whitney said, looking up and licking his lips. For a second, his face almost looked sad, as though there was an expression in his eyes that looked pained. "I know it may not seem like it… But I loved a woman too once."
Bucky was shocked that he was even capable of feeling love. He had never struck him as the type of man to think of a woman as anything more than just an object to play with.
"Penelope was her name," Whitney spoke and a tiny smile played on his face. He reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a small picture, passing it to Bucky.
She was pretty, but not in the way Bucky had expected. She was blonde with curly hair, a short and stout figure with gentle curves. She had sweet eyes that he could tell was light colour, and rosy cheeks that showed a type of jovial happiness. She was the exact opposite of the kinda gal Bucky would have figured Whitney to be attracted to.
"We were actually engaged." Whitney expanded as Bucky passed him back the picture, "She was a school teacher. She was raised on my family's estate, her pop's was our butler. My folks didn't want us to marry because she came from a less influential family but it didn't matter to us. We were in love."
"What happened to her?" Bucky's voice was hoarse as he asked. He still couldn't get Lucy out of his head, no matter what he did.
"Fever took her a few weeks before we were supposed to get married." He said with a deep tone, sadness etched in it. He only snorted and then shook his head, "God knew she was too good for me so he took her home."
"I'm sorry," Bucky said as he swallowed a lump in his throat. His voice felt tight and strained, probably from yelling earlier for Lucy to hold on.
"I wish I could say it gets better," Whitney shook his head solemnly, looking more human than Bucky had ever seen him, "It doesn't. Just easier, day by day." He swallowed a lump on his throat as well, looking as though he was struggling to talk. He rubbed his knuckles nervously, "I can't remember what her face looks like anymore. I mean, I have pictures…But her little expressions, y'know? I don't remember those. She used to crinkle her nose real cute like a rabbit. And she had this little crooked smile that always made her look like she was up to something… I don't remember any of that. And it damn near breaks my heart."
Bucky could only sit there in silence as he listened to Whitney speak. He didn't want to forget anything about Lucy. He hated knowing how he might not remember how she frowned when she concentrated too hard on things. He didn't want to forget how she always had a little piece of hair fall in front of her eyes, or how it looked like when she would blow it out of her way in annoyance when she was too lazy to tuck it behind her ear.
He didn't want to forget the way it felt as she clutched him as they slept beside each other. Or how she would wake up with drool trailing down her cheek. He hated knowing he wouldn't remember how she would clutch at her Star of David necklace when she was nervous or anxious.
Bucky felt tears well up in his eyes as he thought about it. His vision became hazy and all he wanted to do was break down and sob, but he couldn't. His body wouldn't let him. It didn't want to accept she was gone and wasn't coming back.
"My father served in the Great War." Whitney continued on, recapturing Bucky's attention, "He told me before I enlisted that there were three things I should bring with me." He stood up around the fire and moved to sit beside Bucky. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled something out, "A picture of my girl, a Bible, and flask to drink from when your closest friend dies." He passed Bucky the flask that he produced from his jacket, "And I don't have any friends here really, but you just lost your girl and your best friend. So I would say you need this more than I do."
Bucky swallowed thickly and with a hoarse voice said a quick thanks. He opened it and quickly took a large couple swigs. It burned as it went down, but it was pleasant in the way he immediately felt numb.
"Why are you being so nice to me? You hated her." Was all Bucky could ask, curious as to what Whitney thought he could gain.
"Well, yeah, I did. But you didn't hate her. And like I said, I know how bad it hurts and I wouldn't wish that type of pain on anyone."
Bucky took another swig, tasting the whiskey on his tongue and passed it over to Whitney to share. He took a brief sip but handed it back over to Bucky, who greedily accepted it.
"I'm never gonna be able to get her outta my head lookin like that. So scared and just defeated." He didn't know why he was telling Whitney this, but he couldn't help himself from speaking. He felt as if he were to keep it himself he would go insane.
"Like I said, it never gets better but it gets easier with time."
"Any other tips?" Bucky asked shakily, he felt he hand tremble each time he rose the flask to his lips.
"Whores help." Whitney only nodded, causing Bucky to want to roll his eyes. The man sighed and turned to Bucky, "I have a feeling that's not your style though."
"Not really." Was all he said, unable to even think about bedding another girl. Lucy was it. He had figured she was going to be his last of everything. His last person to kiss, his first and last love, the last person he'd ever fall asleep beside and wake up to.
Bucky had to bite his lip and push his nails into his palm to keep himself from crying. He should have never gotten involved with her. He should have continued hating her, knowing it would be easier. But no, he had to be the idiot that fell in love with her.
Bucky drank more and more despite it not helping. But it did start to make him feel a little more numb. He wanted to drink himself into a state where he didn't feel anything at all.
The more liquor be consumed though the more her face kept appearing in his brain. There was no way she was gone. She couldn't have been, he finally just got her. He wanted a life with her and a family. He wanted to see what she looked like in a wedding dress as she walked down the aisle. He wanted to carry her across the threshold of his apartment and immediately take her to bed, making love until the sun came up.
He wanted to come home to her every night, and fall asleep with her in his arms. He wanted to wake up kissing her face, hearing her groan as she told him five more minutes.
He wanted her to mother his children, to be excited when she finally told him she was pregnant. He wished he could see her everyday grow larger and larger with the life they created together. And then, one night she would roll over beside him in bed and say it was time. He would call the midwife and his mom, and of course, Steve too. It would be a long few hours but worth it in the end to hear a new baby's cry.
He and Steve would go out and smoke cigars and have a drink afterwards in celebration after Bucky held his baby for the first time. They would have been the perfect family, and although Lucy didn't want to be a mother, Bucky was sure if she could keep her career and have the best of both worlds she'd eventually come around. But if she didn't that was also alright with him. Bucky only needed her, and together they could be their own type of little family.
None of that would happen now. They would never be together and never be a family. The pain that he felt losing her was unlike anything he had ever experienced before. Each second hurt more than the last and all he wanted to do was go home. But he was in the middle of fucking nowhere in Norway. He would not be going home any time soon, and he'd have to keep fighting. It was exhausting, and there was nothing he could do about it.
Taking in a shaky inhale, he noticed how Dugan and Gabe came out of the woods. The sun had set hours ago, and not knowing it was his team emerging he was ready to grab his gun before they called out.
They approached looking worried, their eyes on him as though he would burst out crying at any moment.
"How you holding up?" Dum Dum asked tentatively, his eyes studying him and seeing if there was any trace of emotion there. Bucky said nothing, only shrugged. If he had to answer how he was he would burst out into tears. The entire day had been a complete nightmare, an unimaginable horror he couldn't wake up from.
"Anything I can do?" Of course there wasn't. But he had to ask because there was nothing else to be done.
Bucky took another large swig of the drink Whitney had given him and then shook his head. He passed his drink back to Whitney, not feeling like he could even drink anymore or eat anything.
"I just want to be left alone."
"We uhh, buried Miller. We didn't get a chance to say anything after so we figured we'd do it here with everyone… And for Dr. Heinrich too."
"Say what you want." Bucky replied with, struggling to keep his tone in check, "The dead can't hear you." His voice caught ever so slightly. Saying she was dead brought a whole new set of feelings to him. He couldn't believe it, he didn't want to. He wanted to close his eyes and wake up back in the farm house, with her resting on his chest and wearing the silk slip she had put on earlier.
Dugan only swallowed a lump in his throat as he saw Bucky's expression. He released a breathy exhale and then spoke up after Whitney passed him the flask. "To Lee Miller, a damn good soldier and a good friend. He made the best fucking pot of coffee around here. He'll be missed." Dugan took a swig and then passed the flask over to Gabe, who also took a drink.
"And to Dr. Lucy Heinrich, the toughest broad I've ever known. And although she could have kicked every single one of our sorry asses, she didn't. She was the smartest person I've ever met, and without her we wouldn't even be alive. She was a good friend, a good person most of the time, and was brilliant at her job." By the time Dugan had finished his speech the flask had made its way back to Bucky. What they didn't know was that she was much more than that. To him, Lucy was his everything.
He swallowed the liquor in a large gulp, hoping it would be enough to put him into a dreamless sleep that wasn't plagued by nightmares of her. "May they rest in peace." Dugan finished and Bucky gave the flask to Whitney and they stood up. He couldn't sit around the fire for a single second longer. He wanted to be alone.
Without saying anything, Bucky began to walk away to go to where he would sleep for the night. His men just watched him and then sat around the fire and said nothing, realizing he didn't want to be around them any longer.
Bucky took his pack and used it as a pillow as he laid down. He wrapped his blanket around him tightly and turned on his side so he was facing away from the fire. He recalled how he and Lucy had slept side by side a couple nights before. Their hands had wandered in the night and clutched one another. By the time he had woken up, he was still holding her hand.
He would never do that again. He would never kiss her face, or run his hands through the softness of her hair. He'd never listen to her breathing as she slept, or watch as the sun caught on her and the green in her hazel eyes would stand out more. He'd never feel her lips on his, or the way she clutched him hard enough to show she needed him. He'd never hear the pretty way she swears, or her mouth whispering dirty things in his ear.
He'd never love anyone the way he loved her. For as long as he'd live she was the one person for him. And he might get married one day, and have a family, but it would always be her who we wanted it with first.
As Bucky tried to keep his tears at bay as he thought of her, he felt something in the pocket of his trousers. Frowning, he reached inside and pulled out his handkerchief.
There was the deep shade of her berry lipstick still smudged on it from when he had wiped off her face earlier after they finished making love. Bucky almost broke down when he realized that the small stroke of colour against the white fabric was the only thing he had to remember her by. At least Whitney had a picture and likely some letters of his fiancé who passed away.
This was all Bucky had. Only the small cloth with the reminisce of where her lips had been. That alone was enough to cause him to break down and burst out in sobs. But he didn't.
Instead he could only lie there in silence and bit his lip to hard that it drew blood. He couldn't feel anything, completely numb of all pain and emotions. He wasn't sure he would ever feel any other way without her. There would only be agony as he was forced to live on an earth which she was no longer on. To Bucky, even hell would have been easier than that.
There had been darkness, and only darkness as a black void swallowed her whole. Pain was etched into her very being, like a stabbing throughout her entire body.
It was cold beyond anything she had ever imagined, and each second it felt like she was fading and fading more.
The fall should have killed her, Lucy knew that. There were rocks at the bottom and the drop alone would have broken her legs.
But for some reason she was still here. She was alive, despite pain coursing through her. She fought off the darkness that was swallowing her, and instead rose with a purpose. She had to find Bucky, she had to let him know she was alive.
Waking up with a start, Lucy gasped as he arose from where she was lying. She felt like she couldn't breath, her chest rising and falling.
It had all been a bad dream, she thought. She couldn't have fallen and then survived, but somehow she did.
"It's okay!" A young voice with a thick accent stressed quickly as Lucy looked around where she was frantically. "It's alright!"
There was a young girl in front of her. She had long blonde curly hair and blue eyes, looking at Lucy widely like she was a scared animal.
She blinked quickly and tried to recognize where she was. She was in a dark room in a wooden cabin of some sort. Underneath her was soft blankets and a comfy bed which felt as though she was lying on a cloud.
"Where-where am I?" Lucy demanded, sitting up quickly and immediately calling out in pain as her hand went to her ribs.
"Don't get up!" The girl said firmly as she pushed Lucy down. She had a cloth in her hand that she put against Lucy's forehead. Lucy hadn't noticed how warm she was, but the cloth had felt nice in those moments.
"Where am I?" Lucy croaked again, her voice straining. She looked at the girl and saw her kind, beautiful eyes. She looked very concerned at Lucy, like she was patient she needed to nurse back to health. In a way, she reminded her of Elsa.
"You're in a little river village near Flam in Norway," Although her accent is thick, but Lucy could understand the girl's English. "My name is Hilda, and you're in my and my mother's home. I found you in the river four days ago, struggling to get up."
"Four days?" Lucy couldn't believe she had been out for so long. It had seemed like she had only just fallen.
"Yes, and you must be starving. You injured yourself badly, your legs and feet are all black with bruises, and you have more bruising on your chest and ribs. You might have cracked one, but I don't think there's been any break." Hilda said reassuringly and then went to a small pot cooking over a fire. Lucy noticed how there were dried flowers and herbs hanging from the rafters of the ceiling. The cottage was simple but cozy, and there was a warmth to it that Lucy hadn't felt in awhile.
Hilda came back with a small bowl of soup. When Lucy reached for it, Hilda smacked her hand out of the way. "No, you're hurt. Let me." Lucy wasn't about to fight with the girl, and she lay back on the pillow. The girl got a spoon and raised it to Lucy's lips, she didn't know how hungry she was until that moment. "You had a fever and we weren't sure you were going to make it. But my mother is a healer, like a doctor, but she relies on old magic and natural remedies. She's tried to teach me a bit."
Lucy sipped the soup and immediately felt better. Although there wasn't much in it and this family was clearly lacking in food, they had spared enough to give to her. "What's your name?" Hilda asked her.
"I'm Lucy," Was all she said between slurps.
"Are you American? You don't speak or look like us, and you have this necklace around your neck." Hilda reached to grab Lucy's Star of David resting around her neck, but Lucy snatched it back and placed between her breasts.
"Sorry, erm, it just belonged to someone special to me." Was all she said, "And yes, I'm American."
"What are you doing here then?" Hilda asked with a frown as she continued giving Lucy food.
"I… I'm with the army. I got separated from my team when I fell from the waterfall."
"The army?" Hilda gasped, "Are you here to save us from the Germans?"
Lucy felt her expression drop as she realized how much this girl had suffered from the hands of evil people. It broke her heart to have to shake her head.
"No, we're not. It was for a mission." Was all she said and her heart sank and she watched as the girls face fell.
"Oh," She said with a heavy heart, trying to hide her disappointment. "Mama says that one day they're going to come and help us. But I guess not right now."
"Someday." Lucy tried to promise, although she knew the only way these people could be helped was if the allies won the war.
"How are you with the army if you're a woman? Are you a nurse?" She asked with a smile as she continued to feed Lucy.
Lucy tried her best to answer through the spoonfuls of soup that was being shoved in her mouth. The warmth of it was unlike anything she had ever felt, and the more food she consumed the more energy she had.
"I'm a Lieutenant. I'm a doctor of archaeology and I'm helping out with some matters." It was all she could say, Lucy couldn't give away too much information to a civilian.
"Matters like what?" She said with a smile, her innocence reflecting through the glimmer in her eyes.
"Classified," Lucy said quietly, trying to return her small smile.
"I understand." The girl nodded, then changed the subject, "I was hoping you were a nurse. Like I said, my mother is a healer. But she relies on old methods of healing. I want to do what she does, but if I had training to be a nurse I think I would be able to help more people."
"It's a noble pursuit and you seem very good at it. You managed to keep me alive for so long, clearly you have some skills."
The girl nodded and scraped the bottom of the bowl to get Lucy every last bit of soup. "You're lucky. If you fell from the waterfall you should be dead. But it doesn't always happen. Papa used to tell me before he died that our ancestors used to throw their old villagers off there once they no longer could live a productive life. It was better than just withering in old age to get to Valhalla. Sometimes they would die immediately, other times they would survive and go live in the forest away from the village."
"How old are you?" Lucy frowned, looking at the with curiosity after she spoke.
"Fifteen. Why? How old are you?" She asked curiously, her eyebrow cocking.
Lucy only chuckled and then shook her head, "I'm twenty-seven." She always hated telling people her age because they always she an old maid for not being married yet.
"My older sister is your age. She has three children, do you have children back in America?"
"No children, but a niece and a nephew." Lucy answered, her looking at the girl with curiosity. She reminded her a little bit of Adeline when she was her age. "And a fish named Clementine." She didn't tell her Clementine the goldfish had likely passed away in her absence...
Hilda only smiled widely, "They must miss you. You must want to be home." She said as a gentle and quiet tone settling over her.
"Not home…" Lucy realized as she spoke, shaking her head despite the pain of moving brought her, "Somewhere else though, with my team." All she wanted to do was see Bucky.
Oh God, Bucky. He must have thought she was dead. She had to find him and let him know everything was okay. Lucy felt tears in her eyes well up just thinking about it. He must have been so heartbroken, not knowing she had survived. All she wanted to do was kiss his sweet face and tell him it was alright. She wanted to feel his arms wrap around her and his lips press to her forehead.
"Well, hopefully we can get you better so you can get back to them. I'm sure they're worried about you."
"Yes, probably." She hated knowing that Bucky had seen her fall and likely blamed himself. She couldn't let him believe that he was the one who had let her slip.
"Is your team all women too?" Hilda asked with a twinge of excitement in her voice. She looked at Lucy with wide eyes, she almost hated the fact she had to tell her no.
"No, I'm the only one. I wish it was women though, it would be better than men." Lucy smiled slightly as she saw how excited Hilda had been at the thought of a team made up entirely of women.
The young girl sighed, "That's alright. Men are good too, I suppose. Although it must be difficult being the only woman. Are they handsome at least?" The girl seemed a little dizzy with the thought of boys. Lucy supposed fifteen was the age she and her sisters finally began to take an interest in them, after all.
Lucy nodded, a smirk on her lips as she thought back to Bucky, "They're handsome enough. One though… He's…." Lucy couldn't find the words to describe Bucky. There were none in the English language to describe just how beautiful he was. "He's breathtaking." Was all she could say with a sigh. There was nothing in the entire world she wanted to see more than his face.
"Well, then we must get you better soon so you can see him again." Hilda said with a smile. She placed the bowl off to the side and then lifted the blankets around Lucy, "I'm just going to check the bruising around your ribs."
Lucy trusted her despite just meeting her. After all, what type of person would fish out a strange woman from the river if they didn't have a good heart?
Hilda was just about to lift Lucy's dress to see her injuries when the door suddenly burst open. A woman with greying blonde hair looked frantic and said urgently, "Hilda, they're here!"
Hilda's face dropped in worry as she looked up at Lucy with frightened eyes, "Who's here?" Lucy demanded.
Hilda looked up in fear and quickly got Lucy to her feet, despite the fact that that she nearly fell from pain. "The Germans! We have to present ourselves to them and then they decide which one of us to take." Lucy nearly squealed in pain as she tried to stand, but luckily Hilda placed her arm over her shoulder so she could put her weight on her.
"Take? Take where?" Lucy demanded, frowning deeply and fear settling in her stomach. Would they notice she wasn't from the village? Surely they would recognize the people living there if they visited often. It would look suspicious for a new face to be in the mix.
Hilda only said darkly with a worried expression on her face, "We don't know…"