PROLOGUE.

the sun and the moon!

❝ may my heart / be the softest place you fall, / may this love / be the wildest place you run. ❞

⎯ butterflies rising

BUCKY BARNES LOVED Marina Castell more than anything in the world. 

He loved her like the sun loves the moon, without question or hesitation. When the woman walked into the room, his love blossomed in his chest, a pale pink bird taking flight. When she smiled, he could do nothing but stare. Do nothing but look at her, watch her, take in her movements. Every little gesture, every cheeky grin, Bucky knew it all. He knew exactly when Marina woke up in the morning, lying beside him in the pale pink sheets she'd insisted they buy for the room. Marina would yawn, scrunching her nose, and turn to Bucky, her hand on his bare chest. He would eye her from the corner, and when she saw he was watching her, she would laugh.

It sounded like sunshine.

They would lay in the bed for awhile. It was always the same, wherever they went. When Bucky had woken up the first time in her apartment in Madrid, he'd first heard the laugh. Her laugh. His days always started with her laugh. In that first apartment, their routine had been the same as when they moved to Bucharest. It was the same everywhere they went.

But let us start at the beginning of this tragic love story.

It began six months after Bucky left the blonde haired soldier —Steve Rogers— on the beach in Washington, DC, walking away from everything he'd known. His mind, pulling him apart, tearing at the seams, his heart shattering. His bones felt traitorous, his mind like murder. For what felt like ages, Bucky wandered the world, trying to stay hidden, trying to understand his new predicament. His world was off kilter, the tortured safety of HYDRA now gone. He stowed away on planes and boats, knocking pilots unconscious, flying himself to new places when word got out that the Winter Soldier was spotted.

For the time being, Bucky had stayed off the radar. And it was both the best and worst thing to happen to him. For one, he was free (mostly). No longer burdened by chains, Bucky was able to live in blissful ignorance. No longer a killer. And yet, the nightmares still haunted him. Visions of his past murders, innocent lives he'd taken. He could still feel their blood on his hands, their screams filling his ears, and every once in a while, he wanted to do it again. The part of HYDRA still in him would take over, and his eyes would turn murderous. As he walked down the street, he wanted nothing more than to destroy those around him. Ready to comply.

Other days, he wanted nothing more than to die. The edge of his sanity was on a thin precipice, and sometimes, when he awoke on the floor of wherever he was staying, Bucky Barnes craved oblivion above all else.

It was one of these days where Bucky's life changed forever.

He'd had too much to drink. That much was clear. After years of being deprived, food and drinks given to him only when he needed it, Bucky was in desperate need of sustenance. He hadn't had alcohol since the 1940s. He'd forgotten the flavour of regular food. He couldn't remember what bread felt like on his tongue. He couldn't remember the harsh satisfaction of swallowing a shot of tequila, letting the liquid burn his throat, as if he was set on fire.

So that day, his fists clenched at his side, mind tearing himself apart from the inside out, Bucky drank. He walked into the bar and drank. Not caring for the expense, nor his own health, Bucky drank and drank until the room span while he still sat, until his throat had been stripped raw. Until his life seemed to drag underneath him, a carpet pulled from beneath his feet.

And he liked it. In fact, Bucky loved it.

He drank more, more, more. Dusk passed into night, and still Bucky sat. Looking back on it, Bucky wasn't sure exactly how many drinks he'd had, nor how much food he'd stuffed into his body. To feel lost was what he needed. Lost in a world where HYDRA no longer existed, where the Winter Soldier didn't exist, where he was free from the burden of death. The stench of blood and gore on his hands. He wanted it all to be gone, for him to be lost in a world he didn't understand.

In a way, that was exactly what the Universe granted him. In another, it provided him the exact opposite.

Bucky didn't quite remember how he'd gotten into the fight. The before was foggy in his mind, the after so vividly clear that it made the edges of the memory fuzzy, static going off inside his head. He remembered the man threatening him, telling him something that made the gruff voice of the assailant trigger alarms in his head. He remembered the man having accomplices, their voices being too loud, and the way his hands were shaking. Other than that, the fight went by in a blur.

Though he remembered the pain. The pain was always what he remembered most vividly. He remembered it because he wasn't supposed to feel it. He wasn't supposed to have a bloody cut on his forehead that stung like ashes tickling his flesh. He wasn't supposed to find himself slumped over a trash can in a back alley, ribs bruised and heart thumping unsteadily.

Yet he did, and it was the best thing to ever happen to him.

He was barely conscious, eyes flitting from side to side, breath shallow, when she knelt beside him. There was a brush of something near his elbow, and he jerked up. The woman gasped and placed two firm hands on his shoulders, pushing him back down.

"It's alright." she whispered. "It's alright. You're alright." Her voice was as soft as feathers, and Bucky could barely see her, only the outline of her features, as he slumped to the side, unconsciousness claiming him for their own.

Bucky had awoken to the feeling of something strong and heavy weighing down on his chest. His eyes were still closed, but the presence of someone staring down at him was prevalent. He could barely move, body rolled over with a steam train. He couldn't swat the weight off his healing chest, nor could he attack the hand which poked and prodded his metal arm.

The warning system and advanced abilities HYDRA had given him called to snap the attackers arm off right then and there, but he paused. Something told him not to do so, that if he did, there would be disastrous consequences.

(He was right)

"Reine!" A soft female voice that sounded like sunshine rang out from another corner of the room. "¡Levántate del hombre de metal!" His weak mind could barely translate the rough Spanish, but Bucky was pretty sure the woman had just said: Get up from the metal man! He heard something grumble like a rickety old truck, then the weight on him released, and something slid away, thumping to the floor.

"Si, mama." A harsh young voice called back. When Bucky could move again (the young girl was surprisingly strong), he finally dared to open his eyelids. The first thing he saw was a pair of startling chocolate brown pupils. They watched him curiously, and were accompanied with a small thin face that housed a tiny smirk and curious frown. Coffee coloured hair fell over the young girl's face as she reached a hand down and poked his bare metal arm again.

It was then that he realized he was covered in bandages, his metal prosthetic laid bare for the world to see. A gauze was stripped over an aching cut on his head, and over his shirt tan fabric was wrapped tightly around his chest. The room he lay in was dimly lit, a dozen flickering candles placed over the bohemian apartment. The couch he'd just been sleeping on was a soft velvet, and the floor was littered with mismatched rugs.

Bucky tried to sit up, his senses coming back full force. His ears could hear the clatter of metal in another room, the steady breathing of the strange little girl in front of him. He could smell the scent of each candle, the fresh air blowing in from the open window. He grunted as his ribs flashed with agony, and suddenly a hand was pushing him back down. The girl shook her head as her hand rested on his shoulder.

(For a long time, Bucky thought it was just because he was injured that she could hold him back. How was he to know it was something much worse.)

"Your ribs are still healing." the girl said in English, her slightly accented voice lighting a migraine in his skull.

"Who-" Bucky tried to say, and his voice was hoarse. "Where-where am I?"

The girl he'd figured was Reine ignored him completely. "I told Mama she should just take off your shirt and bandage your chest properly," Despite being delirious, Bucky raised a questioning eyebrow. "But she said it was rude to undress someone without their permission."

Bucky had simply sat there, dumbfounded and winded. Reine didn't move, and instead watched with shining curiosity. He didn't remember how long they'd stayed like that, the girl smirking at him and Bucky trying to will away the pain. In the kitchen, the woman who'd saved him peaked around the doorway, taking in the sight. Her chocolate bangs swept over her keen eyes, and the smile which could bend the world to it's will was planted on her face. Her daughter, who was as brazened as her father had been, and as kind as her mother, had taken an interest in the man Marina had lugged home immediately.

She'd asked a million questions as her mother rushed to find the first aid kit. Speaking in a mix of Spanish and the English her mother was teaching her while Marina rubbed the blood off the man's head. The night had passed in a blur when Marina found him. He'd been mumbling nonsensically, and she would have left him, had it not been for the pull in her chest. The pull to do good, the pull to make sure nobody got hurt. It was the same instinct that made her keep her daughter after he left, instead of giving her away.

There had been something about the man that reminded Marina of someone she'd once known, someone she couldn't quite place. All she knew was that this man wasn't a bad person, and Marina Castell knew when someone was bad. This man wasn't. He was simply... misunderstood.

Reine had said he was a superhero, and while Marina laughed at her ten-year-old daughter's words, she felt as if there was some truth hidden in them. He did look like a superhero, which was a start.

Marina finally walked into the room, seeing Reine still asking fervent questions, who looked completely lost. The man glanced up immediately, and the two locked eyes. Marina smiled kindly and reached out a hand. Reine was adamant to stay by the man's side, but, with one harsh look from her mother, the girl grumbled under her breath and went to Marina. Still laying on the couch, the man smiled softly.

"You've been sleeping for almost a day." Marina said gently. Bucky straightened, wincing as he came up. The woman's accent was thicker than her daughter's, and Bucky was left dumbfounded as he looked at her, taking in her startling features.

"Have I?" He finally stuttered. While Reine snickered at his mumbling, Marina gave a full laugh. Something inside Bucky's chest twinged.

"Yes." She replied. "You took quite the nasty beating. You were barely conscious when I found you." The way she said the words made Bucky sharpen. He felt that if he dropped his attention for one second, he would miss something spectacular.

Bucky's gaze went between the mother and daughter, seeing the similarities, but also the glaring differences. Reine seemed like the kind of girl to explode at any moment, with the passionate sneer and eyes alight with fire. She seemed to blaze as bright as the sun, and Bucky had only known her for less than 30 minutes.

The woman was different. She still held a light, shimmering beneath her skin, but everything about her was... softer. She reminded Bucky of the dainty paintings of flower fields and willow trees housed all about the city. Her laugh reminded him of soft sunlight in the morning. She was wearing pink that day, Bucky could still remember the exact shade after all these years.

It was pastel, almost white, as soft as a baby's breath.

"Where-where am I?" Bucky asked again.

The woman walked closer, and he saw that she had a bowl of something steaming in her hands. "Madrid. You're in my apartment." Then she bent to his side and pushed the steaming cup of broth into his hands.

"Mama made you her famous soup!" Reine squealed from behind. When Bucky looked at the little girl, she made a disgusted face and placed two fingers in her mouth, silently gagging. Bucky didn't smile, but unfortunately Marina noticed him staring, and turned around.

"Reine!" The woman shrieked, and the little girl laughed. Her mother sighed and turned back to Bucky.

"It's fine." He said, feeling he needed to console her.

Marina grinned. "That's kind of you, but unfortunately my daughter is right." Bucky frowned and the woman leaned closer, scrunching her nose. "It's pretty terrible."

Bucky laughed, but suddenly his chest seized, and he grunted in pain, falling back onto the couch.

What he saw before he passed unconscious again was the effervescent woman pulling a soft blanket over him, the image of her smile swirling around inside his foggy head.

Bucky stayed longer than he meant to. His injuries were worse than they'd thought, and he spent almost a week lying on the velvet couch, listening to Reine drone on and on, letting her wrap the bandages around his flesh arm. Marina would watch from the doorway, smiling to herself as Reine made disgusted noises at the sound of Bucky's arm whirring and scrunching.

They found out who he was two days into his stay. Marina was sitting beside him, them both realizing his chest needed to be properly bandaged, and that he wouldn't be able do it himself.

She had sent Reine out of the room, and Bucky turned his back to her as she helped him lift up the soft fabric of his bloodied shirt. She was wearing a pale pink tank top and beige cardigan. Her fingers flashed fire across the bare flesh of his back. Her touches were gentle, and he barely flinched as the shirt was lifted over his head. Marina scrunched her nose at the bloodied bruises that had sprouted along his back. She didn't speak as she pulled the bandages from the kit.

They didn't talk as Marina gently pulled him to face her. She gave no sign of anything as her bare arms brushed past his side. He gritted his teeth as she tied the bandages tight, arms wrapping around his middle and back. He tried not to show that her light touch was rapturous torture. He'd never been handled so carefully, with so much gentleness.

It was foreign to him that this woman who barely knew him would be willing to help. He'd never been helped like that before.

For Marina, she was wondering how a man so broken and tormented would let her do this. She was not new to helping injured souls. Working at the city clinic and aiding the shelters scattered around Madrid, Marina had lived her whole life helping others, asking for nothing in return. She was used to it, telling herself that Reine was all she needed. She didn't require anyone else. The last man to love her had broken her heart repeatedly. Marina had come to terms with never finding solace again.

"What's your name?" The man's hoarse voice broke the tense quiet. For a while, all that had been heard was the hustle and bustle of city life out in the great streets woven through ancient buildings.

"Marina." She replied softly. Bucky had rolled the name over in his mind, trying to find the blemishes, the spots of darkness, but all he could feel was light.

Her hands pressed against his back, clasping the bandages in place. He could feel her looking at him, but Bucky could not turn around.

"What is yours?" She finally worked up the courage to ask.

He figured he could tell her the truth. "James." The words felt traitorous in his mouth. Marina could sense the unease rippling through him, but held her suspicions to herself. She pushed away from him, hands leaving his bare skin, the imprints of her soft touch still upon his skin, and got up.

"Reine!" She called out, and looked back to Bucky. He smiled softly up at her, unsure whether or not it was called for. Her lips parted.

"Thank you." He said.

Marina nodded and crossed her arms over her chest. "You're welcome to stay as long as you like." Then she'd turned to go find her rambunctious child. "Oh," she turned back at the doorway, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "And nice to meet you... James."

Then she'd left the room.

Bucky did stay. He stayed with the two for a long time. One week in, Bucky's chest started to ache at the idea of leaving. He'd spent every day helping Marina cook dinner, teaching Reine her English, and at nights, would be forced to watch cheesy romance films that he barely understood (what was online dating anyway?).

His wounds healed, but so did his mind. Marina would laugh at his corny 1940's pick up lines, and Reine would force the man to dance with her. Her mother would walk over to their old record player and turn on crackled old songs that Bucky knew more than they did. He was shy at first, unsure what to do with the little ten-year-old clinging to his arms, stepping on his toes and giggling at his grunts of pain. Reine would swing him around the room, Marina chuckling from her spot on the couch.

They would dance and dance until Reine was practically asleep in Bucky's arms, and Marina would take her daughter to bed. When the woman came back, Bucky and her would stand on the small balcony, looking up at the shimmering stars.

He knew he should have left. He knew that him being with them would bring danger. He still couldn't trust his mind, and most definitely couldn't trust his heart. If Marina and Reine found out who he really was, what he had done in the past, everything would be over. His end would come, and Bucky Barnes would go back to the shattering old man with a head full of horrors.

The thing he didn't know was that Marina was aware of who he was. She knew his real name was James Buchanan Barnes, or "Bucky". She knew he was a killer, a pawn for HYDRA that had saved Captain America and gone off the grid.

She knew he was the Winter soldier, but she didn't care.

Marina Castell was good at figuring people out. She knew when a man was trouble, and when one was not. She knew her daughter Reine had something in her that burned brighter than most. She knew she was being naive in thinking love would never come again, but in most cases, she was always right. So when she looked at Bucky, when she watched him dance with her daughter and sneak glances her way, she knew he wasn't what the world said. Yes, he was once a soldier. Yes, he still tasted of war and heartache, but he was also just a man. A human being, conflicted, given no choices in life, and Marina couldn't condemn for that.

So, she let him stay, and Bucky was grateful, because he wanted to.

He stayed for months, and in that time, Bucky's heart mended. His mind seemed to snap back into place. His wounds were long gone, merely figments of memory, a faint reminder of his past. He stayed in that beautiful apartment, with the beautifully kind woman and her temperamental daughter.

Every day, Marina would go to work, and Bucky would stay at home with Reine, who didn't go to school, as she had a track record of getting into fights. The ten-year-old's list of suspensions was surprising. When Bucky had asked her why she chose to fight and make trouble, Reine had replied that it was the most exciting thing to happen at school, and she wasn't sorry.

Instead, she stayed home, doing her own lessons from books sent by a kind teacher in America. Before Bucky had arrived, she'd been alone all day, barely ever doing her work, instead wandering around the house, jumping on the couch and watching movies on their small television. But now that Bucky was there, Reine had been forced to complete her lessons. He would sit across from her, books laid out over the coffee table, and stare into her fiery eyes until she grimaced and pulled out a pencil.

The amount of staring contests they had was obscene.

Marina would come home, and (unfortunately) make them dinner. The routine built around the three grew, a comfortable fit into a tumultuous life. They spent a year together, and in that time, something shifted between the two adults.

In the mornings, Marina would step out of the shower, and when she came out in her robe and soaking wet hair, Bucky realized it was harder to look away. He started noticing the angular curve of her neck. The puckering of her pink lips. He noticed that when she was embarrassed, her smile grew bigger. He noticed when she was happy, her cheeks turned rosy. When she gave him a plate, and their fingers brushed, Bucky felt as if fire was running up his arm.

It was 13 months into his stay with the Castell's that everything changed.

The girl had gone to bed, muttering to herself that it was a weekend and she should be able to stay up late. Marina and Bucky were out on the balcony again. She was wearing a light pink cardigan and soft grey sweatpants. Her umber bangs blew in the soft breeze, outlining the curve of her collarbone, her sharp cheekbones and puffed cheeks. In her hands was a cup of herbal tea, and steam blew up from the pastel china mug.

Bucky tried not to look at her. He tried not to notice her perfect eyes, her slight smirk and raised eyebrow. But Marina saw, she saw and she smiled at it. Without speaking, without uttering a word, the woman reached a hand down, and slowly, so very carefully, she linked his hand with hers. His metal fingers scraped against her soft flesh, and she let out a soft gasp at the cold of the steel. Then he did look at her.

He looked at her, drenched in her sparkling grin and shining eyes. A woman of strawberry pink and sunshine. In that moment, when their gaze met, when their eyes collided, Bucky knew what had happened.

They'd fallen in love.

From then on, the three lived in a euphoric harmony. In peace. Bucky and Marina became one, their lives tangling with each other. Limbs and heart and body all combining, completely in love. Their hearts beat as one, their smiles reflected. One was nothing without the other.

Bucky loved everything about her. He loved her scrunched nose. He loved her smile. He loved her faults, her flaws, and cracks. He loved her for all she was, and Marina was the same. She didn't care that he used to be a killer, he was reformed. She didn't care she had to stay up all night consoling him when the nightmares were too much. She didn't care. Because she loved him. She loved James "Bucky" Barnes, and that was all that mattered.

Reine was ecstatic, of course. She'd been keeping her mouth shut for months, after all. She'd seen the way her mother and Bucky looked at each other. She'd gritted her teeth when the two shared funny looks between each other while they watched the old films. She'd tried ever so hard not to blurt out something she'd regret when Bucky would look at her mother longingly as they danced. Every night when she'd been sent to bed, Reine would peak around the corner and watch them stand on the balcony. In her mind, the girl was willing the two to get closer, to finally get it over with and kiss.

She liked Bucky. She liked him a lot. She liked the way he treated her, as if she were an adult like him. She liked how he would never refuse to give her a piggyback ride. She liked how he would make funny faces at her when Marina wasn't looking.

Bucky reminded Reine of the father she'd never known, the man who should have been with her mother, who should have loved her like there was no one else in the world.

Reine loved Bucky, and she wanted him to love her mother as well.

So when Bucky and Marina did kiss, lips colliding, Reine had been watching, and she couldn't help but cry out in joy. The two had released immediately, turning to see a little girl in red pajamas run back into her room. Marina and Bucky, breathless and craving more, laughed and went into her room. Reine was pretending to be asleep, but they all knew she wasn't.

So, the two silently went to either side of the bed and slipped under the covers. Marina placed a kiss on Reine's forehead, and Bucky had pulled her closer to him. Marina and Bucky fell asleep holding hands, a child nestled between them, curling against their bodies, safe and sound.

✧

Two weeks later Bucky came home from buying groceries with a bloody nose and bad news.

He told them that he'd been recognized. A man at the store had noticed the hint of metal peeking out of his gloves, and the police had been called. Reine didn't quite know what was going on, but Marina understood. If the authorities now knew Bucky Barnes was hiding out in Madrid, they would never stop looking for him, and it meant that Marina and Reine were no longer safe.

He had to leave. He had to leave right then and there.

Only Marina wouldn't let him. She'd told him over and over that she would never leave him, that no matter what happened, Reine and her would stick by his side. She'd walked up to him and held his face in her hands, kissing his forehead. A crystalline tear slipped down his cheek. He knew she was going to say those aching words. He knew she would not leave, and neither would Reine. In that hurried moment of anxiety, the uncertainty of the future hanging by a thin strand, Bucky realized just how much he loved them both.

They left the following day. Reine didn't ask questions, knowing that wherever they were going, it would be better than anywhere previous. Bucky sneaked into the airport and acquired a freight plane. He tucked them on board, and next thing Reine knew, they were walking down the streets of Bucharest, Romania.

Reine was between Bucky and her mother, holding onto their hands tightly as the three pranced down the street towards the vacant apartment building Marina had found online.

They spent the remainder of their free time in the city. Reine continued to do her studies at home, while Marina found work in a local cafe, and Bucky was confined to the house, not letting himself leave unless necessary. He helped Reine with her lessons, and the girl gained a vast knowledge of the English language, catching on quickly than he thought possible.

When the girl came bouncing into his room with a giddy smile on her face after she'd finished classes for the day, asking the most ridiculous question in the world, Bucky had no choice but to say yes.

They'd gone into the living room and Reine had immediately attacked, jumping onto Bucky's back and trying to bring him down. Surprisingly, the man had stumbled, shocked by how strong she was. She wasn't able to bring him to his knees, but she was close. Reine had wrapped her arms around his neck, squeezing tightly, laughing. Bucky grunted and grasped her legs, swinging her around, making sure she didn't hit the ground as he gently lowered her and pinned her to the floor.

Reine simply laughed. She seemed to enjoy violence more than anyone Bucky had ever met.

"Enseñame como hacer eso!" Reine had yelled. Teach me how to do that.

Bucky had sighed and let go of her. Reine had immediately jumped up, trying to get on his back again, but Bucky swerved around her and hugged her close. Reine laughed again.

"You want to learn how to fight?" he'd said. Reine had nodded vigorously, and her head banged against Bucky's nose. The man had cried out and let go of his surrogate daughter, staggering back. She'd whirled around, a smirk on her face. Bucky nodded and swiped a finger under his nose, his mouth twitching.

"Doesn't seem like you need to know anything." he'd said playfully. Reine had frowned, mouth puckering.

"Please please please!" she'd screamed, and ran towards him, a determined look on her face, but just as she was going to hit Bucky's chest, the door rattled, and in came Marina. When she saw Reine with sweat dripping down her forehead aiming for Bucky, she'd cried out in mock shock, nearly dropping the take-out in her hands. Bucky and Reine instantly went to attention, trying to make it look like nothing had ever happened. When Marina shook her head and went into the kitchen, Reine giggled and Bucky winked at her.

That night, when Reine had gone to bed, exhausted from Bucky and her play fighting, the reformed soldier held the love of his life in his arms, swaying her gently around the room. He tugged on her waist, burying his face in her lean neck, and she wrapped her arms tight around his middle. Their lips touched, soft as a wisp of clouds. In their gazes, a thousand stars burned bright.

I love yous smoldered their mouths, and the earth trembled as they shed their clothes and found the same blazing love in each other when they went to bed, laying with each other.

In that moment, in that scorching, passionate moment of only love, the two thought nothing could go wrong. That they would be with each other till the Universe died out, till they grew old and withered (Bucky had forgotten his hindered age). Until Reine grew to be a young woman, going off into the world to claim it as her own. Bucky and Marina Castell would love each other until the end of time.

And that night, they thought nothing would ever tear them apart.

Oh, how wrong they were, for their end did come. It came more than once. Tearing them apart again and again, pulling them thin and translucent . The Universe careened, as the luck which Bucky Barnes and the Castell family gained quickly ran out.

(After all, everything must come to an end)

The next day, as Bucky picked out plums from the street vendor for Reine at home, he saw it.

When he saw his own face on the newspaper, the world he'd built for himself and his family came crumbling down. Brick by brick, their world ended. 

a/n: AHHH HERE IT IS! You can probably see why the prologue has been split into two parts, because I really outdid myself with the summary of events prior to the start of the story, it's soooo long...

I would love to know what you thought of this chapter (*prologue)! Did you like the detailed dive into Bucky and Marina's story? Did you enjoy how they fell in love? What do you think of the Castells? Didn't you just love Marina with her kind heart, and then Reine, who is literally the definition of a firestorm? These two are my absolute babies, and this will literally be the ONLY chapter in the whole book which is (kinda?) not sad, so enjoy it while you can. 

As always, don't be afraid to comment your thoughts, theories and opinions, I love reading them and replying! Vote and follow me if you like, and until next time, where the second part of the prologue brings the word PAIN to a whole new level...