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A Bucky Barnes Winter Soldier Fic - The Constant	By : TheConstant1944 Category: Marvel Verse Comics > Captain America Views: 2391 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
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Chapter List
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Chapter Ninety-Three
Burden of Proof

Arthur and Anna Bowman: 1945/46
It has been three months since the soldiers came and took Freya away. Three months since they were told to forget they had a daughter. Three months since Anna had last smiled properly.
Arthur comes awake suddenly, heart thumping as though he has been running. The room is fairly dark, it is just after dawn. He reaches out to touch his wife in bed next to him, but Anna is not there. There is just an empty cold space.
Arthur fumbles to light the lamp and then puts his slippers on. The door to their bedroom is open.
“Anna?” he calls, and holding the lamp he makes his way out of the room and on to the landing. The bathroom is empty and he gets a terrible sinking feeling as he feels a cold wind moving through the house. He goes downstairs, and into the kitchen. The back door is open.
“Anna?” he calls again, but quietly now because he knows she is not in the house. He knows she has gone out. He knows she is looking for Freya.
Anna's mental health had never been good and as she has gotten older it has worsened. When Freya had been here she could help with her mother's condition, she seemed to know the right thing to say, how to calm her but, in the last three months Anna has declined at a worrying rate.
Arthur puts the lamp on the table, kicks off his slippers, and struggles to put on his boots. There isn't time to dress properly; he grabs his heavy overcoat and scarf and then plunges out of the door into the patch of land at the back of their home. In happier times there used to be a garden planted here: flowers and vegetables and Anna would sit out in the rare sun and Arthur would watch her soak up the rays of the sun.
His beautiful Anna.
As he looks out over the snow covered ground he can clearly see a trail of footprints leading into the forest and he hurries alongside them, calling her name - but there is no reply. He doesn't know how long she has been out here. It is so cold. Her coat was still hanging in the hall so she must just be in her nightdress. He sees something lying in the snow and cries out when he sees it is one of her slippers - then five feet away he finds the other one. She is now barefoot.
The forest is less dense here but the snow is falling again, gently and he can still follow the tracks until they peter out. He is in a small opening. If he looks up he can see the sky. He looks around, turning as he does so, and then he sees her.
“Oh Anna,” he murmurs as he goes to her. She is sat on the ground, leaning up against a tree, her nightdress is as white as the snow, her skin pale and her hair, which is now completely grey, falls around her shoulders. For a moment he thinks she is dead but as he crouches down she opens her eyes and they are full of tears.
He sits down beside her as she weeps. “I can't find her. I can't find my daughter,” she says and he reaches out and takes her in his arms and she bows her head against his chest. She is freezing cold.
He needs to get her home. “Oh Anna. We must get you back home, back into the warmth.” He goes to stand but she does not move. He looks down at her and she shakes her head.
“Don't make me go there, don't make me go home. Freya isn't there, she isn't there Arthur, they took her away, our daughter, they took her away.” Her voice reflects such a deep sorrow.
He knows what he should do - even if it means dragging her back - but truth be told, he is tired. And he knows he only has weeks left before he will have no choice but to have Anna institutionalised.
So instead he struggles to remove his coat and goes to put it on her, but she stops him and instead he wraps it around both of them then twines his scarf around her neck and she snuggles up to him. It is so bitterly cold. He can feel the warmth leeching out of his body and hers; her skin feels like marble and he can see how tired she is.
How tired they both are.
“Did we get a letter this morning?” she asks. Arthur is used to how Anna's mind flits around from one moment to the next, from the present to the past. He snuggles her up against him some more and she puts her hand in his. He looks at the wedding ring on her finger, remembers the day he placed it there.
“Yes we did,“ he lies so smoothly, not to hurt but to please. “She said she was happy and that they are visiting new places every day.” He has never told Anna that Freya had been a nurse at the front; Anna believed Freya had been away in England visiting friends of Arthur's. Anna didn't even know there was a war on. Did not know that the only thing keeping them alive with a roof over their heads had been the money Freya sent them each month during that time. “She said she had visited London and seen the palace but said it is not as beautiful as ours in St Petersburg. She said they were parading the horses and the soldiers, that there are so many handsome young men!” And he kisses Anna's forehead.
“And did she say she was coming home soon?” Anna asks, and Arthur's eyes fill with tears.
“Yes she did my love. In a few weeks.”
But Arthur doesn't even know if his daughter is alive. The night they took her is embedded in his memory; the sound of the soldiers feet on the stairs, Freya's face as she was taken and pushed into the truck. The choice he had made, to stay with her mother and not try and stop them. He knows he would have been no match for them, knows he needed to safeguard Anna, knows Freya understood, but it didn't stop him from believing that he had somehow betrayed Freya. Did not stop him for crying and praying for her every night.
“I'm so tired Arthur, I miss our beautiful daughter so much, I miss our Freya,” Anna says and he looks down at her. Her eyes are closed and he can feel how relaxed her body is. Tears roll down his cheeks and his voice is choked. His tears fall onto her hair.
“Sleep now Anna, don't worry. I won't leave you. I'll wake you when Freya gets home,” and he feels her nod. He tightens his hold.
“Tell me again...” her voice is so quiet he barely hears it but he knows what she is asking. It is a story he tells her, one she loves, about a prince who meets his princess and the child they have.
“Once upon a time...”
It is not until the next day that they are found. The scene is a peaceful one. Anna and Arthur snuggled up against the tree, her hand in his. Both so pale, and so at peace. Frozen teardrops on his face and snow in her hair. They agree that Arthur could not have lived without Anna; theirs was a story known to everyone in the town. Before it had been sad; a tale about a man losing his wife to madness... but now? Now the story becomes one of romance. A prince who found his princess, and who chose to die by her side.
*
Pepper Potts: Present Day
Pepper finishes reading the report sent to her by the private investigator whom she had hired to find out about Freya's parents. It had taken him a while but eventually he had found the details buried in the records at the town's local records office, and a newspaper report from the time. It was thought that Anna Bowman, who was slipping into insanity, had wandered outside and become lost to the snow. Her husband had found her but it would have been too late by then. Reading between the lines, it had been felt he had chosen to die by her side. The local coroner returned a verdict of death by misadventure – not suicide. It is not mentioned where they are buried. He will await further instructions if she wishes for that information to be found.
The report went on to say that there was mention of a daughter, Freya Bowman. It says she was taken one night by either the KGB or Russian soldiers and that her whereabouts were unknown. It was thought she was deceased.
Pepper sits there for a moment. Should she tell Freya now, or leave it until things were better? Bucky had surrendered to the police last week and since then had been refusing to see either Steve or Freya. They were both going through so much, was it fair to add more of a burden? After all this time could it wait for a few more weeks, a few more months? Pepper sighs. She thinks not. If it were her she would rather know, and she feels that if she was to ask Freya that would be her answer to.
“Jarvis, do you know where Freya is?” she asks.
“In the library Pepper,” he responds. His reply makes Pepper smile; finally, after years of telling him to call her Pepper and not ma'am she has finally gotten through to him.
She takes one more look at the report and then goes to find Freya. She finds her at the same time as Jeremy Sands does.
“I can come back later,” Pepper says but you ask her to stay. Sands is worried. Tomorrow will be your first day in court giving testimony. He believes it will take days, if not weeks to tell your story, but first he has to warn you. The District Attorney is attempting to discredit you; he is going to go with the belief that you are not the innocent you claim to be, that he is not even sure that Freya Bowman is even your real name. The prosecution is arranging a link to the court from the town in which you say you grew up, but other than that Sands does not know what the line of questioning will be.
“But why try and discredit me? It doesn't make sense,” you say naively.
“Freya, if he can cause reasonable doubt to who you say you are and what happened to you then he casts doubt on everything you testify to...” he hesitates and then looks at Pepper and then back to you “...there is even talk that after Bucky's trial has ended that there will be charges for you to face.”
“What?” Pepper is indignant.
“A bit like Nazi sympathisers during the war, you know, that Freya was in on the plan all along and not one of their victims. That she worked with Hydra and was not actually kidnapped by them,” he says.
Pepper remembers the report she is still holding in her hands and holds the papers up. “I may be able to help there,” she says.
*
The Doctor & His Grandfather's Diary
The man is watching the news. It's been a long day at work and he is ready to crash, but his three year old daughter has other plans. She wants to play. With half his mind on the television and half on the game he is making her laugh so hard that his wife calls from the kitchen.
“Don't make her hyper, I'll never get her to bed tonight,” she peaks around into the living room and sees her husband laying on the floor holding their daughter up and tickling her.
Then he stops suddenly and moves to sit up, his focus on the news story. He just heard a name, one he recognises but he doesn’t know why.
“Daddy,” the little girl says in an exasperated tone.
“Sssh honey,” he is listening to the rest of the report with his daughter trying to get off his lap.
His wife comes into the room and lifts her up passing her a toy to keep her occupied. “What is it? What's wrong?” she asks.
“I don’t know, I thought I....” he looks back at the screen and so does she.
It's a news report on the trial of the Winter Soldier.
They listen to what the reporter is saying and whilst he mentions no names the man knows he heard something, and it is bugging him. He changes to another news station and then another, and he's in luck: on the third they are giving a round up of what has happened at the trial.
“...and the prosecution says they can find no trace of this woman working at a field camp...” a reporter is stating
“So, who is she?” the news anchor asks.
“Well exactly. They now think that she made up her story to cover the fact she was part of the Project Winter Soldier itself and that she should be held accountable for what was done to Sergeant James Barnes if he is found not guilty.”
“Thank you Sandi....” the news anchor turns back to his audience “Sandi Liebermann, reporting on today's events as the trial of the Winter Soldier starts. The prosecution has put into doubt the identity of Freya Bowman who beings her testimony tomorrow. Miss Bowman states she first met Sergeant Barnes at a Russian hospital field camp. She claims she wasn’t part of the Hydra project from its inception, but her testimony is being called into doubt. And now on to today's other news...”
The man switches of the news and his wife puts her hand on his shoulder.
“What is it? What's wrong?”
“I don’t....honey, where did we put Gramps' old diaries?”
“In the attic. I think, in that old trunk he brought with him.” The man goes to stand up and his wife continues: “Oh no you don’t buster, we have one excited three year old to put to bed and then dinner.“ She ruffles his hair but then sees the look on his face and sighs good-naturedly. She gives in. “You get to cook all weekend....Saturday and Sunday and you can wash and wipe.”
“Deal,” he says, already heading off to the attic.
Much later he is sprawled on the living room floor, dusty old books lying around him whilst his wife hands him a glass of wine and sits besides him.
“So are you going to tell me?” she asks.
His focus appears to be on one diary in particular. “I will, I just have to make a phone call first.”
“Ted it's after ten....”
“I know...back in a minute.”
Ted Bethune MD jumps up and heads for the phone, diary in hand.
*
Freya: Who are you really?
There are demonstrations outside the courtroom, banners stating that you should be charged alongside the Winter Soldier. You were advised to get a lawyer. You told them you didn't need a lawyer.
How could life suddenly get so complicated?
In the courtroom it takes a while for it to quieten down and you are reminded that you are under oath. This is your first day and you have been told it will be a short session, more of a shot across the bow than anything else. Charles Bayer, the District Attorney, has been busy overnight. As Sands had warned, he has requested a direct televised link to the town where you state you grew up in Russia. On Skype, Bayer talks to the local Police Chief and everyone can hear. In the background you recognise your parent's house but it all looks so different now and you feel sick. Your stomach is churning and you are glad you missed breakfast this morning.
You look over to where James is watching everything.
Bayer has asked you a question and you turn back to him and he repeats it.
“This is the house you say you grew up in?” You nod, your eyes wide. “Please answer the question verbally Miss Bowman.”
You clear your throat and then repeat your answer. “Yes.”
He turns to the screen where the Police Chief has just explained that they have talked to the owners and they have never heard of a family called the Bowman's - but that is not surprising, they are new to the town and it all happened so long ago.
Bayer is definitely out for your blood. He wants to hang you with your own lies, and if you are lying about this then all the testimony you are about to give on Sergeant Barnes behalf is lies. He wants to hang you and wants to tear the Winter Soldier apart and if it makes a name for himself on the way well, these things come to those that wait. He would have done well in Hydra.
The Chief goes on to say that they have canvassed the area and no one can actually recall a family called the Bowmans, and so the Police Chief acknowledges that he cannot confirm you once lived there. The prosecutor is smiling; he is just about to put the noose around your neck. He doesn't yet know one of his young team has made a serious mistake.
Bayer hands you over to Jeremy Sands who asks the judge if he can consult with you for a moment.
He comes over and puts his hand on the microphone and then asks you if there is anything that could possibly prove you lived in that house. He has Pepper's report but that just mentions how your parents died, and that they did have a daughter named Freya, it is not proof of who you are, it is not proof that you are Freya. He needs to nail this down tight.
You sit there and think. You could describe the house as it had been, even remember some of your neighbours names and of course there is the report on your parents from Pepper but....
And then you remember. How could you have forgotten?
“Yes,” and you tell him.
Smiling, he steps away.
First he asks the Police Chief the approximate ages of everyone they canvassed. The policeman confirms that the area is up and coming and so most of the couples are in their mid-thirties or slightly older. No, he confirms they did not ask anyone who may have been alive in those days. “It was over seventy years ago, most of them weren't even twinkles in their father's eyes yet. Even I wasn't around then,” he remarks - he himself is all of forty years old.
“So you weren't surprised that no one can confirm knowing the Bowmans.”
“No. I did tell the young man on the prosecution that I could look up in the local records office for more information but that it would take days to search through the records and he said not to bother.” And at this point Sands looks at Bayer. So does the judge. Bayer looks at a junior on his team, his face reddening. It is not you who will be hung, drawn, and quartered today.
Sands then turns back to the screen and asks the Police Chief if he could enter the house and follow a set of directions. He tells him he may need a crowbar. The man goes away to consult the owner. It takes but five minutes for him to obtain the needed permission.
Charles Bayer complains to the judge but the judge is prepared to give Jeremy leeway; after all this line of questioning was opened up by the prosecution. “I'm sure it could have all been prevented if your junior had done his job properly, don't you?” remarks the judge drily.
A deputy and the chief are followed into the house by another police man who is working the video camera giving the live feed to the court.
Once in the house they stop and ask which way to go and you give them directions. Inside your heart is racing, pounding and you feel everyone can hear it. The house looks so different now, more prosperous, what if.......no you can't think like that.
You direct them to the room that had been your bedroom. It has changed beyond recognition and is now a baby's room, decorated in blues with hanging planes and a cot. A blue carpet finishes the décor.
You can almost hear the Chief groan as he realises he is going to have to take the carpet up of the floor, but you stop him. “Just in the corner, by the window, only about two feet in.”
He directs his men to pull the carpet up and in the background you can hear the a woman speaking fast in Russian; she does not want them to make a mess. The Chief looks at her and she backs down. She doesn’t want any trouble.
The camera focuses on the floorboards and you are counting inwards from the wall. “That one,” you say, and the Chief kneels and tests the board. It is already loose. Your heart stops, what if someone has already found them?
He is handed a crowbar and he eases up the board and peers inside. He then beckons for the camera to do the same. Nestled under seventy years of dust is something wrapped in material. He reaches in and retrieves it, coughing as he stirs up the dust.
The wrapping is a piece of cloth, part of your uniform from the field camp, and when he opens it nestled inside are Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes' dog tags. The Chief wipes them over and then reads them out to the best of his ability, then holds them up for the camera to see.
You close your eyes.
When you open them you look at James. He is sat forward, he tries to smile and for a few seconds you are connected. So long ago for both of you, so much history has passed, so many years. There is relief in his eyes and you know it is relief for you. That this means you are safe.
The connection with your home town has been proved and the prosecutor tries to cover for his mistake, says he had been so sure that it was just one of your lies. His day is about to get worse as someone hands a note to James' lawyer. He reads it and asks to approach the bench.
The Judge decides to take a recess. You wonder what all the fuss is about and when they return you are told there will be a delay with you returning to the witness stand. There is another witness that has information valuable to the case and the judge has agreed for it to be given.
“Please could you state your name please, “ Jeremy says to the well-dressed man on the stand. He looks familiar to you but you are not sure why.
“Ted Bethune,” he says and you literally jump at the name. You put your hand up to cover your mouth. Of course, that is why he is familiar, he looks so like his father - no, wait it would be his grandfather.
Jeremy goes over his credentials with him. Ted is a fully qualified doctor working at the local hospital. He also holds a doctorate in modern languages which includes his grandfather's native Russian tongue.
“And can you tell me why you are here today?”
“I was watching the news yesterday, well last night, and heard about the trial and the questioning of Miss Bowman and I thought her name rang a bell,” he says and Bayer jumps up to complain; this man is far too young to be able to prove who she is.
The judge tells him to sit down and not say another word; he will have his own chance to question Ted Bethune.
“My grandfather, Mark Bethune, fled Russia during the Second World War and brought his family over to America. He always talked about this secret that he knew and that he had been worried he and another person would be found out and murdered for the information. When he came here, he brought with him his personal diaries which he actually kept up to date until he passed and left in the safe keeping of his son, my father, who then passed them to me.”
At this point the defence holds up what appears to be an old diary and enters it into the record.
“Do you recognise this?” Jeremy asks, and Ted Bethune confirms it is one of the older diaries from 1944 - covering his grandfather's time in a hospital field camp in Russia. “Could you read out the page I've opened it at please.” He turns to the judge and the jury explaining that the diary is in Russian but that Ted will translate as he reads. He smiles at Bayer.
“You can of course bring in your own translator to confirm what Doctor Bethune reads is a true interpretation.”
“Still so bitterly cold today. Would I expect anything less here? We had a new casualty in today, brought in by a group of misfits calling themselves soldiers; they are not soldiers, they are scum, stealing from us, taking our supplies. They brought him into camp believing he was dead and they were trying to sell us the organs. These people, I don’t know how they sleep at night. Freya had an argument with their leader, I thought for one awful moment he was going to shoot her but I was able to intervene. When she checked the body she discovered he was still alive, he is an American we believe. How he is alive I do not know! I think every bone in his body is broken, every organ torn, I don’t expect him to last the night and Freya won't leave his side. I worry about that girl, we have lost so many soldiers and both of us I think have had enough, we don’t want to see any more death, any more blood. The camp is empty except for the American but we are expecting more casualties as soon as the fighting starts again. Meanwhile, I must sort out some more supplies and....”
“And this page please.”
“Something is not right about the American. His body gives off such a heat and it seems to be repairing itself, repairing some of the injuries but I still don’t think it will be enough to save him. I am not going to say his name here, I will just call him the American. The other doctors are talking about experimentation they have heard about, going on in America and - darker still - experimentation going on here. The name Hydra has been spoken but I don’t really understand what that is. I worry more about Freya; if this man dies it will break her heart. Because of the gossip I have changed the notes we hold on him and have removed both mine and Freya's names. I just have such a bad feeling about this whole entire affair. I don’t want any of it to rebound on either of us. She has become like a daughter to me.”
Another page is turned, by now everyone is listening quietly, as though they have been transported to the past.
“Oh god I think one of the other doctors have passed information on to someone about the American. Freya and I have talked quietly about trying to get him out of here but we don’t know how or who to contact. Maybe the contact here who deals with the black market can help, but can we trust him? I don’t think.....”
Another page is turned.
“It is too late. They came for him, soldiers and a truck. They hauled him out with no thought of his injuries. Freya and I tried to stop them but they threatened to shoot us. They have taken all the files, thank god I had changed them. I must get Freya out of here and I must now look after my family; if these people find out the truth I feel we will all be killed.”
“I sent Freya home today. I am worried about her state of mind. She fell hard for the American and I don’t think she is going to get over him easily. I will miss her. I know we will not meet again.”
The courtroom is deadly quiet, you are crying; you cannot help it, the words have taken you straight back there, to the cold and the hopelessness.
Jeremy asks a few more questions and written proof is given of how the original Doctor Bethune fled to America with his family.
There is just one more thing left. In the back of the diary is an old photograph showing a group of nurses, doctors and orderlies, it is marked Field Camp,1944.
A list of names is given on the back.
You are shown fourth on the left hand side next to Doctor Bethune, and the name given is Freya Bowman. Your long plait is draped over your shoulder and although you wear your hair shorter now there is no mistaking you.
You are who you say you are.
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A Bucky Barnes Winter Soldier Fic - The Constant