Tuesday comes too quickly after the weekend I had. I’m not looking forward to sitting in my office at all today. Thankfully my only official appointment today is with James but that usually drags by agonizingly slow and silent. I’m not giving up on him; not at all. I have never given up on a soldier and I don’t plan on to either. Giving up isn’t something I do.

Skid Row is softly playing in the background as I read one of the many files I have on James; trying to get a feel for this guy. Nothing is helping though; mostly it’s all military information gathered from his days in the Army. This doesn’t tell me who he is as a person.

As Youth Gone Wild turns into I Remember You there is a knock on the door. “Come in!” I yell, not bothering to look up from the file I’m reading.

“Miss Dugan?” A familiar voice asks. I look up and see Steve standing in the doorway,

“Come in Captain Rogers,” I smile, putting down the file as he closes the door behind him. “And please call me Erin. I think we’re considered friends now.”

“Call me Steve then.” He smiles a genuine smile, a nice comforting smile. “Still no progress on Bucky, huh?”

“He’s different than anyone else I’ve worked with,” I sigh, “he’s going to be a tougher cookie to crack. But I haven’t lost faith, I’m not going to give up.”

“I might have an idea how you can get his memory back.” Steve says, “it’s a long shot but what do we have to lose?”

“Lay it on me, Cap.”

“Before the war, Bucky loved going out,” he starts, “loved going on dates with girls, making them smile, dancing; the whole nine yards. I think if we start having him do things he’s done before, it could trigger a memory or something.”

“That could work,” I agree with him. “When I dealt with civilian patients that had amnesia I would always tell their familiar to show them around their favorite places, eat their favorite foods, play their favorite music. Those kind of attachments could help trigger and they begin to recall their memories. So I can see that working.”

“Really?” He looks shocked that his idea could possibly work.

“Yea,” I smile, “just leave me a list of James’ favorite things and stuff like that and we’ll start this kind of treatment as soon as possible.”

“I’ll get working on that list and give it to you tomorrow.” He smiles as he goes towards the door. He turns around and smiles once more, “thanks for doing this. It means a lot.”

“Don’t worry about it, Steve.” I smile, “I know he’s your best friend and you finally have something familiar in this unknown world. I’ll make sure you get him back.” He nods his head before walking out of my office, closing the door behind him. A sigh escapes my lips as I lean back in my chair, what am I getting myself into?, I think to myself.

**

“What does your necklace mean?” James asks after twenty minutes of silence.

“Little faith,” I reply.

“Do you have it?” He asks, “faith, I mean.”

“Yea, I’ve got faith.” I reply, “do you?”

“I’m not sure anymore,” a humorless chuckle escapes his lips, “I’m not sure about anything anymore. I look at things, like Captain Rogers, and I know I know him I just don’t remember how. And it’s getting worse as time goes by. And then at night, I can’t sleep. I have dreams that feel like memories; they feel so real.”

“What are your dreams about?”

“The main one is me falling off a train, falling to my death.” He sighs, “it’s always the same each night. I wake up right before I crash to the snowy ground. I’ve got no idea what it means.”

“It’s a memory,” I tell him.

“How do you know?”

“My grandfather told me the story, or as much as he could.” I reply. “Steve -Captain Rogers- was there. He watched you slip from his hands and watched you fall. He blamed himself. My grandfather said he wasn’t the same the last days they spoke. He was mourning his best friend, he was mourning you.”

“Did I know your grandfather?”

“You fought together prior to being prisoners of war and before becoming Howling Commandos together.” I smile, “he spoke highly of you.”

“I’m sure that would change,” he scoffs.

“Want to find out?” I ask, smiling. “He’s in a nursing home right here in D.C, he’s always up for visitors.”

“I-I don’t know.” He stutters out.

“Maybe once you’ve made more progress then,” I say softly. “You’re getting there James, this has been a big improvement from last week. This calls for a celebration.”

“I just talked, nothing about what happened to me.”

“But you talked and you shared, that’s huge.” I assure him. “I assure you, what happened today is a step in the right direction. At the end of this week, I’m going to get out of this office and out there to have some fun, you deserve it.”

Notes

Erin

Finally James spoke! Progress, no matter how small, is always a good thing.