I do not own Captain America anything.

But I would love to boardgame Sebastian Stan to death.

Just Keep Swimming

Bucky Barnes had been morose for days.

He went in and out of spells.

There were times when he was almost a good version of his new self. Quietly engaging, even landing a few dry witted quips here and there on unsuspecting victims.

Not cruelly. Just enough to make others around him chuckle.

And there would be a light in his blue eyes. And warmth to his smile.

And then there were other days where he withdrew into himself. Became a statue.

Unmoving from before one plate glass window or another, staring a thousand miles beyond some peaceful vista.

And back into the dark and terrible past.

No one could draw him out at these times.

Not Clint . . .

"I've been unmade too, man. It sucks but you can't unpack and live in the guilt forever. What's the point?"

Not Wanda . . .

". . . paprikash? Made properly, it can really lift your spirits."

Not Sam . . .

"Come on, man. This mopey face thing is boring. Get off your ass."

Not even Steve . . .

"Remember the time when Peggy beat everybody at one arm pushups? I thought Dogan was going to swallow his cigar."

Bucky might summon a wan smile or a vague nod.

But generally there was nothing anyone could do to draw him out of his self-induced isolation.

Until Natasha Romanoff. The Black Widow.

In a most unconventional way.

"Quiet day today."

Nothing.

"Want to punch something?"

Silence.

Determined exhalation from the red-haired former assassin.

"Alright, Barnes. Time for some therapy."

He ever so slightly drew away from her.

"Come on. Be a gentleman and take a lady to the movies."

She practically pulled him from the window and into the screening room.

What would a classy dame like Romanoff spend her time viewing?

And more importantly, what would she select to force upon the nearly catatonic former Winter Soldier?

A black and white romance, perhaps? Casablanca? Hearkening back to a simpler time?

Not exactly.

Something even simpler.

But something much better in a way.

". . . want this anemone to sting you?"

"Yes!"

Why is she making me watch a kids' movie?

". . . in a joke, everyone talks . . ."

Jeez, this is annoying.

"Stop following me!"

What is wrong with her?

"Popcorn, Barnes?"

"Oh. Thanks."

"What?! The whole ocean isn't big enough for ya?!"

There is something wrong with this fish.

"I'm sorry. I suffer from short term memory loss."

Oh.

"Sorry about that. When you gotta go, you gotta go. Hit it."

Okay. Where's the remote thing? Oh, here.

"It's, uh, it's, uh, P. Sherman . . . 42 . . . Wallaby Way . . ."

Sydney. Sydney. It's Sydney.

"Sydney."

Finally.

"The water's going down! It's-it's-it's going down!"

"Hmm. Are you sure about that?"

Oh, man. That whale is going to eat them. They're gonna die.

"Look! Already it's half-empty!"

"Hmm... I'd say it's half-full."

How does she stay so positive?

"No, trust me, it's half empty!"

There, that. That's me.

Oh boy.

"If you leave... I just . . . I remember things better with you. I do. Look. P. Sherman, 42 . . . 42 . . ."

Wallaby Way, Wallaby Way! You can remember, come on, Dory!

"I remember it, I do. It's there, I know it is . . . because when I look at you . . . I can feel it."

Oh no. Oh god, no.

"And-and I look at you, and I... and I'm home. Please... I don't want that to go away. I don't want to forget!"

Oh dammit.

Sniffle.

"Barnes?"

Sniffle.

Damn cartoon fish.

"Hang on, I'll get the tissues."

Sniffle.

"Here."

"Thanks."

Come on, Dory, come on!

"Are you all right?"

Of course she's not alright, she's . . . she's . . .

"I don't know where I am... I don't know what's going on. I think I lost somebody but I, I can't remember... and I can't remember..."

Oh god, she's me.

Sniffle.

"Barnes?"

Hush, Natasha, I'm having a breakdown.

"It's OK, it's OK. I'm looking for somebody too. Hey, we can look together!"

"I'm Dory."

Well, at least she knew her own name.

"I'm Nemo."

Ding!

"Nemo . . . that's a nice name . . ."

Oh god, she is me.

Sniffle

"Just keep swimming, just keep swimming, just keep swimming, swimming, swimming . . ."

Just keep swimming, just keep swimming . . .

"Feel better?"

"Yeah, I think so."

A beat of silence.

"Don't tell Sam. Or Steve. Or-"

His Pixar cohort smiled gently.

"Don't worry. I've got a running mental list."

"Okay. Thanks."

Natasha cleared her throat and looked around as if weighing the probability of something.

"You know . . . they made another one."

A long drawn out moment of silence.

Then a hopeful-

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. She goes to find her family."

"Door closed?"

"Yes."

"Popcorn?"

"Yes."

"Tissues?"

"Yep."

"Don't tell-"

"Nope."

"Okay."

Another beat of silence.

"Thank you, Natasha."

"Youre welcome, Bucky."

"Okay . . . go."

"Hey, man. What's this new friendship bracelet you got from Romanoff?"

Reddening face.

"Nothing. What's a friendship bracelet?"

Intrusive index finger hooking the blue silicone.

"JKS. What's that mean?"

Twisted back protectively.

"Nothing."

Just keep swimming, just keep swimming, just keep swimming, swimming, swimming . . .

Okay, just had to have some fun here. ;) I now release you to your regularly scheduled Winter Soldier angst.

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