#mdm

I feel like share one of my favorite illustrations of one of my fav mods! (Monday Dusk Monolith) I STILL SOOO DAMN OBSSESED WITH THEM!! Besides mod being dead with a cancelled revival, I still enjoy draw them cause they have a special place on my heart 🫶 (lie I dont have heart but if I had im sure they would have place)

Some people know I'm addicted to this au so they show me time to time fanarts they do (AND IF YOU DO YOU ABSOLUTELY HAVE TO SHOW ME AND TAG ME TOO ISTG I LOVE THEM SM) they were one of the reasons I did this lol

I've talked too much now how I end up this uhhh look at this: 𓆏

Btw Here's some alts cause I think my ass got a lil too much excited with the fx lol

Psalms 19:13

Keep your servant also from willful sins; may they not rule over me. Then I will be blameless, innocent of great transgression.

The soft chirp of the Summer cicada choir drifted through the open windows of the St Tammany Parish sheriff's department. A cold mug of coffee sat firmly to the side of Sergeant Barnes' desk, long forgotten in favor of the many banker's boxes that surrounded him. Four months, he had been rummaging through this cold case evidence for four grueling months, and he still had nothing to show for it. All of the dates, places, times, people, and things bleed together like an ink spill in his mind.

"Maybe I'm just not the right recruit for this," he sighs. Setting a manila folder down on his desk, he glanced at his wristwatch.

"Jesus fucking Christ," 2:45 am sat on his watch face, peaking back at him. Slowly but surely, Bucky placed each folder back into its corresponding box, allowing dust to envelop his broad frame. He sits, hands running laps through his hair. "I should have listened to Steve when he told me to turn down this case; serves me right," his musing cut short by the rise and fall of the cicada song surrounding him.

His drive home was as silent as it always was. Concrete stretching as far as the eye can see, illuminated by the headlights of his pickup truck. The sound of the Spanish moss dancing among the trees brought him little comfort as he drove. Silence like this always left a small pit in his stomach. Maybe it was the primal fear of the unknown he thought, or just his heightened apprehension that left him uneasy.

The Prussian blue Ford made its way down the long driveway that led to the Barnes estate. With drifting eyes, Bucky parked a few feet from his porch, glancing over to the other home located on his property. All of the lights were off, but he could faintly make out the soft melody of Billie Holiday's 'I'll be seeing you' wafting through the night air.

"Seems like Steve forgot to take his record off the table before bed again", he chuckles, "forgetful as always."

Climbing the creaky front steps of his home, he made his way inside. With the removal of his work boots came the feeling of a warm body working its way around his calves. "Hello baby-girl, I'm sorry for making it home so late. Could you ever forgive me?" Cooing softly at the bright white cat making her way around him in a figure 8.

"I promise tomorrow I'll be home on time, we can even take one of those leash walks you like, stretch your legs." he scoops her up with a gentle kiss placed right on top of her skull. Traveling through the house with the cat in his arms, her bell collar ringing pleasantly with every step.

Bucky makes his way up the stairs to his bedroom, placing the cat gently on his bed. "Shower time, Alpine- I won't be more than 30 minutes, it's been a long day," the cat, Alpine, muses back at him as if to say, "Don't take too long! You've been gone long enough!"

"I know, I know, just sit tight for me, I'll be back," he says to her, swiftly exiting the room with a fresh set of boxers hanging from his right arm.

The shower was short, and his dinner even shorter.

He quickly washed his dishes and made his way back upstairs to his bedroom. Each stair creaking under the weight of him, grounding his breath as he entered his bedroom. He could count on one hand how many nights of good rest he had acquired in the last few years. He could pinpoint the day, what time his head had hit the pillow, and here he was trying to chase that pipe dream once again.

Even as his consciousness drifted from him, his body easing into the mattress, Alpine's warm purrs lulling him into the darkness of sleep. He knew what was to come.

Sticky swamp air encased his frame, sealing his white tank top against his body. Bucky made his way off the front porch. The moon hung low, altostatus clouds covering the star-spangled sky like a sheet. His heavy rain boots crunching along gravel as he made his way towards his best friend. Steve was smaller than Bucky. Scrawny from lack of care, and pale from the way the moon illuminated his face.

"I don't know Buck. Becca wouldn't leave the back door swinging like that. Even if she was sneaking out, she would've taken the time to cover her tracks." Steven's voice shook slightly.

"Well, regardless Stevie, she didn't even bother to put on her shoes. She can't be too far out."

Bucky glances back at the porch of his family home, mud-slathered Mary-Janes sitting next to the front door.

'Two nights ago, they were penny loafers,' Bucky mused softly, Becca's frilly white church socks discarded within the muddy shoes; a week ago, there were no shoes left at all, just the screen door left swinging.'

"Hey Bucky, you wit me buddy?" Steve's voice pulls Bucky from his recollection.

"Yeah Buddy, I'm here," Bucky's face scrunching slightly as he turned to Steve. "Look," Bucky points to a set of footprints leading into the treeline. "She probably just went to sit by the water. Had one of her nightmares, didn't want to wake us."

Steve nods, "Yeah, ok, we uh- we'll bring her home. Put her back to bed and call it a night." Steve murmurs, glancing up to meet Bucky's assured gaze.

Bucky gives him a small smile, attempting to not only comfort Steve, but himself as well. In small strides, the boys begin to travel across the flat span of the Barnes backyard towards the treeline. Large oak trees swaying with the tide of the wind.

Wet earth underneath Bucky's boots caused him to slip with every step. The path they chose was dark, illuminated only by the moon and small lightning bugs drifting through the air.

As the boys traveled farther south the sounds of the Louisiana underbrush beat against Bucky's ears. Rustling leaves, the mockingbird's night song, and crisp cricket chirps all working in tandem like a church choir, creating a sweeter melody. Underneath the soft forest song Bucky could hear his own heart, rattling against his ribcage.

Here he was reminded of what it was like to be 16 and fearless. What it felt like to walk through the murky swamp, holding no fear for the wet lands he called home. His nightmares always blinded him in this way. Bringing him back to these exact moments before disaster, bringing him back to when he felt free. No matter what he did or didn't do, he was bound to this place. Bound to end up right back where he didn't want to be. Shrouded in shadows, details waxing and waning in ways that were so disorienting, it caused him honest distress. No matter how many times Bucky tried to rewrite the past, nothing that mattered would change.

"Look alive, we're about a minute away from the riverbank," he heard Steve shout, a couple of feet further down the path.

"Copy that," his voice so quiet that Steve almost missed it.

Slowing their pace, the boys crossed the threshold into the cypress swamp. Trees towered over them, casting ghostly shadows on the dark water below. Spanish moss hangs from every branch in sight, swaying softly like silk through the night's humidity. Stem fog rises off of the murky water; the smell of methane gas following short behind leaving little room in Bucky's lungs for fresh air.

"Becca! Rebecca, it's me! We have to get back home. It's way too late for you to be wandering by yourself. You shoulda woke me up," Bucky calls out into the swamp. Padding softly towards the water, Bucky calls out again, "BECCA- BECCA PLEASE COME OUT, this isn't funny- Dad is gonna skin me alive if I don't bring you home before dawn breaks. Becca please come out." Words slipping from his throat, no real bite behind them.

Steve turns his back on Bucky. "Becky, come on, it's super late! Your brother is real worried. Just think, in the morning we can sit and eat Lucky Charms! You can even force us to watch the Banana Splits if the television decides to work."

Bucky squints, his head drifting to the left as something catches his eye.

"Stevie,' Bucky called over to him. "Her footsteps lead this way, come on.-" his feet swiftly moving in the direction of Rebecca's foot trail.

Traveling westward, they follow her footsteps along the riverbank, just shy of the tall gamagrass bordering the other side. Her little footsteps were messy, twisted and unmeasured. Slowly but surely the scenario was becoming clear. She was trying to keep pace with someone.

The farther they traveled the darker the night became. The moon's light now threaded through tree branches, leaving the boys shrouded in momentary darkness.

"I shoulda grabbed a flashlight, we're stumbling round here like two blind bats." Barnes murmured.

"Well Buck, we left the house in a rush. Didn't expect to be so far out, didn't expect for it to be so dark. Cut yourself some slack."

The boys walked 2 miles west along the riverbank following her tracks. Becca's footprints began to drag. Deep toe prints left in the mud and misaligned steps, leaving evidence of exhaustion.

"Bucky, I don't know if she's even still out here- we have to be almost four miles from-"

"Don't. We aren't going home until we find her Steve."

"She may have wandered back to the house by now Buck, cut through the grass and up the big hill behind the house. She knows how to get home. Look you're tired. We can go home, catch a couple of hours of sleep, and come back out in the morning when it's easier to see."

"Steven. No." Bucky's harsh voice raising in volume.

"Becca's tough girl. It ain't too cold out, even if she falls asleep out here, nothing but the damn cranes and wild hogs are big enough to mess with her. She's an excellent climber. We will find her at first morning's light." he finished with a sigh.

"Look." Bucky answers sharply, finally turning to face Steve, "If you are too tired to give a fuck about something bigger than you? Fine. I am staying out here to look for my god damn baby sister, and ain't no man or beast gonna stop me. Do you understand?"

"You know I didn't mean it like that James. I love Becca like my own, you know that. Don't treat me like a damn dog just because you're stressed out. We are going to find her. We just need to regroup-" Steve stops himself short. He closes in on Bucky ,now chest to chest.

"what's that?" Steve's voice was barely above a whisper.

"What the fuck are you talkin' bout-"

Bucky swings around to find a raggedy ann doll. Rebecca's raggedy Ann doll lying face up in the riverbank silt.

The boys approach the doll as if it were a wild animal, one body on both sides casting each other a stunned look.

'Here we go' Bucky thought, taking a deep breath. He crouches down, reaching for the doll. It was soaked through almost as if it had been dunked into the murky water and thrown back, just for him to find.

"Stevie something's not right." Bucky let out a worried sigh. "Her trail ends here, but she was following something. Only her set of footsteps were left in the mud. What the hell could she have followed all the way out here?" He looks up at Steve, "No separate set of tracks, not a damn bird in sight. What is going on?" The look on Bucky's face became bewildered, Panic finally setting in.

"You're right Buck, this just don't feel right," Steve looks to his left and then his right, "I mean even the damn cicadas are quiet. I have a bad a feeling about all of this."

"She isn't here Steve, she hasn't answered to any of our calls. Steve what if she's just fuckin gone? What if we never find her? I don't think I could live with myself if she just up and disappeared." Bucky scrubs his hands over his face with defeat.

'He wasn't really here; he reminds himself; it's just a dream. It will be over soon-'

A hand claps down onto his left shoulder, bringing back into his body

"Bucky, you said it yourself. We are bringing Becca home. Regardless of what we have to do."

That moment Bucky remembered clearer than any other. Steve's hair was slightly tousled, forehead lines so distinct that it made him look 15 years older. His warm breath wafted over Bucky's face, grounding him. Steve's hand on Bucky's shoulder squeezing slightly. The sound of the water rippling. The tall grass waving in the wind. The world around him moving slowly, completely out of Bucky's control. He remembers wanting everything to freeze, to allow him time to gain his bearings, but that wasn't up to him and he knew it. The devastating realization that nothing in this swamp was concerned for him. Not the wind, not the trees, not the river or the small animals resting oh so peacefully in their homes, not one creature cared to feel his anguish.

And that's when they heard it. The slight creak of Cypress branches.

Initially, it sounded as if the tree's branches were cracking. Heavy tendrils swaying in the muggy summer breeze. Both boys turn slowly, gaze locked on the object that had made the sound.

There she was, Rebecca June Barnes. Her little body slotted into a keyhole in the branches of a cypress tree. The white nightgown she wore to bed that night was now completely soiled. The hem of her gown was caked with mud, long streaks of grime clawing their way up her fragile frame. Her jaw hung loose, pale face angled towards the sky in agony. She lay there pale, blood matted curls framing her face like a birdcage keeping her bewildered expression just out of reach. Rebecca June Barnes, the little 12 year old girl who was so full of life just that afternoon, rolling around in tall grass and making friends with the dragonflies soaring above her head. Rebecca June Barnes who jumped in puddles and spilled food on her Sunday's best. Rebecca June, the baby Bucky held in his arms smelling as fresh as the day was new. Rebecca, Bucky's baby sister, sat right above his head, gone to the world, and there was nothing he could do.

Steve released the breath that had been lodged in his chest.

"Jamie. Jamie there's no way, this has to be some kind of-"

"stop." Bucky's eyes still locked on Becca's slumped form.

"James this can't be-"

"I said. Stop"

Just out of sight, Bucky could see someone slip behind the treeline.

His head snaps towards the clearing, squinting eyes searching for movement.

'Someone else was here. No one else should be around.'

It had become a routine. Bucky finds Becca missing, the back door left agape. He wakes Steve up, and they leave the house in search of Rebecca. They trudge through the woods under the guise of the full moon. They come out to the Cyprus Grove, look for Becca for about an hour, and find her mangled body among the trees. He wakes up. Like clockwork every time, details missing and aspects changed, but a beat was never missed. This time around things were different.

"Steve what was that? Did you see that?"

"Bucky, what the hell are you talking about."

"I just saw-"

"Buchanan. Nobody else is here."

"No Steve, I just saw-"

More movement further along the tree line pushes Bucky forward. Before he could comprehend what was happening, his body is carrying him through the gamagrass field in a dead sprint. He bursts through the treeline looking around wildly, hoping to catch something, someone.

Just up ahead stands a man shrouded in darkness. His silhouette encased in a darkness even deeper than the forest provided. They both stood still as statues staring at each other. The man's features were indistinguishable; darkness draped around him like a latex. Bucky couldn't make sense of it.

With bated breath, man swiftly turned to make his escape but Bucky takes off after him. Shades of brown and green pass his peripheral vision as he tails the shrouded figure. The man was fast, long legs carrying him through the trees as if he was floating on air. Bucky pushed his body harder, gaining on the figure.

James is a few steps short when he lunges, reaching out to grab the man. His hand grasps for the man's shoulder but catches nothing. He watches as his hand slips straight through the shadow man's figure.

Bewildered, Bucky attempts to shift his weight but it's too late. His body falls to the ground like lead smashing against the forest floor. Pain ricocheted from his shoulder to his ribs and back up to his neck. His head hits a tree root, knocking him unconscious.

Bucky woke up gasping for air as if someone had knocked the wind out of him. The alarm clock blaring on his nightstand was what brought him back to his body this time around. 6:30 am blinked back at him, the crimson light illuminating his side of the bed. Alpine lies peacefully against his back. Her gentle purrs grounding his breathing. Bucky leans over smashing the snooze button with an irritated groan.

"What a wonderful way to start my morning." he sighs, rubbing his hand across his jaw. He elects to plant his feet on the hardwood floor, padding across the room towards his closet. Once dressed, he scoops up the snow colored kitten resting on his bedspread.

"First coffee, then breakfast." He states making his way through the door frame of his bedroom, "Maybe we'll have time for a solid morning stroll. What do you think about that Alpine girl?" Alpine's body nuzzles further into his neck. Her petite head hanging off of his shoulder as they made their way down the stairs into the living room.

The drive to the station was almost a straight shot 6 miles north. With one left turn on Johnson Avenue, he was pulling into the desolate parking lot of the St Tammany Parish sheriff's department. Dusk had barely begun as Bucky made his way into the building. Coffee tumbler warming one hand and his car keys cooling the other.

"Morning." He greets Mr. McCann, the front desk associate gruffly, punching his clock in ticket before placing an insulated paper cup on the lip of the reception desk.

"Morning Barnes, late night?" McCann smiles up at Bucky from the file he was reading over.

"If you could call 2am late then yes, a very, very late night." Bucky chuckles, tapping his hand on the desk's ledge as his body regained motion.

"Thanks again Barnes, for the coffee. I'm gonna need it dealing with this recruit's intake file." McCann's voice was slightly strained in an attempt to hide his frustration.

"Recruit intake? Tony didn't say shit to me about us getting any recruits this quarter. We got Torres straight out of training last Winter; it should be half a year till I see another new face." Bucky grumbles, fingers raking through his chestnut locks.

"Well Walker put in his transfer to Boston to 'patch things up' with his family so we had to replace him." McCann hands a crisp white sheet of paper over to Barnes.

"He was only good for brute force and getting on my last nerve so- I highly doubt there is much space to fill." glancing down at the top of the page reading 'Y/N Y/LN'

"Well you are in for a doozy with this one. Mid 20's, Top of their sector. Born up north, did their academy requirements down south and then transferred back. High marks on the Psych evaluation side of things, good with people. Says that they take 'a peculiar approach' to things. Good with de-escalation, worked in local jails rehabilitating prisoners. Seems like you traded a ticking time bomb for a tree-hugging hippie." McCaan chuckles. "I wish you the best Barnes, seems like Stark is putting this off on you BIG time."

"I am going to need more than luck, but uh thanks regardless." Bucky's voice travels behind him as he makes his way through the department towards the conference room.

James could hear chatter erupting from the other side of the frosted glass, Tasha's giggles and Sam's muffled sarcasm climbed through the gap underneath the door. With a deep breath Bucky pushed the hand of the door open, entering the room, seemingly prepared for whatever bullshit his team brought into the station on this late may morning.

"oh, good morning James! So happy to see you've finally decided to join us." Sheriff Stark's testy tone told Bucky everything he needed to know.

"I was at the front dropping off breakfast for McCann. You know his wife is in the hospital and he can barely take care of himself. She told me to look after em' until she's released." he says, settling into his seat next to Tony, who stood at the head of the dark oak table.

Bucky continues, "He was debriefing me on an apparent new hire, you know the one you failed to speak to me about?"

"Well Eric Draven, if you had been here-" Stark glances down at his watch from over the rim of his glasses, " about 12 minutes ago, " Tony shrugs, " I could have told you."

"A little foresight would have been helpful. You know, as the guy you entrust with your recruits you seem to hate telling me when our team is getting bigger."

"You seem like you enjoy mothering chicks so I never thought it as an issue."

"Stark. You know it's important to run this stuff by me. At least pretend you give a damn about my opinion."

"I do give a damn about your opinion Barnes," Tony says folding his arms, now facing Bucky, "I just choose not to apply them when the opportunity arises!"

Bucky pushes himself back into his seat a little farther, grumbling to himself .

"I love this little cat fight thing you two do, but we have important shit to talk about before Walker's replacement walks in on you two, our bosses, having a cock fight," Starr leans forward, folding her hands on the table.

"Ava's right, we have about 10 minutes to run through a 30 minutes worth of meeting notes so if we could put the cat fight away for later, it would be greatly appreciated," Belova chimes in.

"Alright, peanut gallery I get it. As you all know, Walker submitted his transfer about two months ago. He has surprisingly been accepted to train high-level arms operatives in Boston as of last Monday. This leaves us in a sticky situation. After sorting through some of the transfer files with Rhodey, we decided Deputy Y/N would be the best fit for the position. Even if Walker wasn't the biggest team player, he was an integral part of our unit."

Rhodes chimes in, "As you know, our quarterly evaluation is coming up and the department is lacking in certain areas. With this new addition, we could be a more well-rounded team, a well-equipped team."

"What Rhodey is trying to say is that you all need a softer edge. Iron fisting isn't always going to do it for civilians." Tony huffs. "All I ask is that you welcome them into the team with open arms and not open mouths, got it? great!" Tony smacks his hand against the table, "Meeting adjourned." Tony Proclaimed as he started for the door.

"Tony, you do know the kid still has to show up and do onboarding… You are aware of this correct," Nat postures, "and you are in charge of both onboarding and making sure they get here promptly."

"Well, that's what we have Barnes for. Right Barnes?"

"Is there always a catch with you," Bucky asks, " I mean last time this happened you stuck Torres on Sam like a tick."

"Now we are conjoined at the hip!" Joaquin states proudly, settling back into his seat.

"Is that something to be proud of?" Ava turns her head towards the young man on her left. "I mean, codependency is never good for anyone now is it?"

"Don't be mad at me because Rhodey put you and Belova on paper duty this month. Some of us have better conflict resolution skills than others so we get to stay in the field." his body turns in the stiff oak chair.

Yelena turns to face Joaquin, "Aren't you the same guy who broke the coffee machine and didn't tell anyone? It was really silent in the office that morning. Bucky and Sam both tried to brew a pot, only to come back to a flooded counter and dry coffee grounds Joaquin. THAT'S what you call good conflict resolution? Really?"

Bucky's head snaps towards Joaquin, "That was you?"

"Joaquin why didn't you tell me?" Sam's stern voice cutting the boy to the bone.

"Look it's been 6 months, I thought it would be silly-"

The department was so quiet that you could hear a pin drop. Papers strewn across desks, half-empty coffee cups with lipstick stains left cold. The hum of the AC units up above and the click of your deep brown loafers against linoleum flooring ring through the department. "Did McCann give me the wrong directions because no one is out here." You whisper softly, in case someone was around the corner.

Taking the last left, you finally hear something. A chaotic cluster of voices, each vocal tone distinctly different than the other. As your feet carried you closer to the frosted glass door the symphony of voices grew and grew until it bounced off of every wall that surrounded you.

You pause, weighing the pros and cons of leaving the building, getting back into your rust bucket SUV, and driving back to the shitty apartment you were renting for the next 6 months.

"AND THE NEXT TIME YOU EAT MY SMOOTH PEANUT BUTTER AND REPLACE IT WITH CHUNKY GRAPE JELLY SWIRL, I'M RIPPING YOUR TONGUE OUT AND LEAVING IT IN THE JAR." a woman's voice rings out above the others.

"OH COME ON LENA. It was on sale at the metomart! It was good too, got myself a jar and slapped it on some wonder bread. Good late night snack."

"SAM WILSON I SWEAR TO GOD-"

And that was your cue. With a solid KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK, you wait patiently for the door to open. Rustling resonates throughout the room until a confident "Come on in!" calls from inside.

As you close the door and turn around you are greeted with 9 stoic-faced individuals. The mood in the room is completely different from what you expected. Each set of eyes staring into you causes you to break out into a slight sweat.

"Hello little Canary, you are right on time. Take a seat." You look down at your white and yellow striped button-up. 'Maybe this wasn't the best shirt to wear on my first day'

You lower yourself into an empty hard oak seat, opposite to whom you could only assume was Sheriff Stark.

"As you know the St Tammany Parish sheriff's department just had one of our deputies transfer up north to your sector in Boston. After looking over your files, testing, background ya-dah ya-dah we thought you would be a good fit for the department." Tony says with a nod

Rhodes shoots Tony a sharp look before continuing, "You have immaculate scores on all of your evaluations. Your work with prisoners is truly awe-inspiring. From what we've seen, you are an outstanding deputy who truly cares about the people you serve. We need more folks out there," Rhodes points to one of the tall glass windows behind Stark, "like you. Doing the work to keep our so-called sleepy Tammany Parish safe."

"Beautiful monologue Rhodey." Stark taps his friend on the shoulder. Rhodes lets out a defeated sigh in return.

"Look kid, we're gonna do a rotating pair system for the next couple of weeks. See who you best mesh with and move on from there."

"So, you're putting me directly in the field?" Your brow scrunches together, "You don't want to do your own evaluation of my skill set, or even the standard placement evaluation?"

"We have your most recent evaluations," Tony replies swiftly

"I took that series of testing last fall." you look at Stark's face, searching for any sign of this all being a big joke the team had preplanned for your arrival.

"Yeah Canary Kiddo, that sounds recent to me," he claps his hands together, causing everyone but the red-headed woman on Tony's left and the stoic man to his right.

"Normal set up today. Rodgers, I want you working the radio and phone system in house. Starr and Belova, you are on files clean-up. Barnes, I want you with Y/N for today, be gentle will you?", Tony turns to see the brunette's brow already set, "Lets head out and make the day great yeah?"

That's how you ended up in Barnes' cruiser. Its tan leather seats are clean and soft. The faint smell of menthol cigarettes lay under the scent of black ice air freshener. A little hula girl sits on your side of the dash. You watch her dance as you two drive in silence to your destination. The windows were rolled all the way down, warm spring air slamming into you from every side.

"Is the air alright?" Bucky's eyes slip from the road towards you,and back ahead again.

"HUH?" you yell, the wind catching your voice and tossing it around the car like a pinball. The car slows as you approach a four-way stop in the middle of nowhere.

"I asked if the wind was ok?" Bucky turns to you again, his bright eyes catching yours.

"It was a little much, but I can deal."

"I can roll up the windows sweetheart, it's alright," he murmured, quickly rolling all four windows up halfway.

'Fuck formalities I guess'

"I like your hula girl, where did you get her?" You were trying to make conversation. A full day with a mime was not in your playbook for today.

"Sam got her for me as a running joke. I keep forgetting to take her out of the car."

"What's the joke?" you watch him stiffen.

"It ain't important"

You sit and watch him for a while, eyes following the folds of his forehead downward towards his chin.

"Where are we headed anyway?" you ask, body curling towards him.

"We got a call during the meeting for St. John's Rd. The details were a little fuzzy, but if I guess, it's a civil dispute between two neighbors. I answer this call at least once a week."

Your eyes drift back to him once again. His left forearm hung out of the window while his right hand held the steering wheel firmly. Mid-length brown hair was tucked behind his ear, and a pair of Ray-Ban sunglasses sat steady on his nose bridge. You could tell he was calm but not at ease. His tense shoulders and set jaw were the biggest indicators.

"How bad of a dispute are we talking?"

"Last week Mrs. Banks tried to beat Mr. Schulz with a wooden baseball bat after he threw his lawn mower clippings into her yard."

"Tried to beat him while you were there?"

"She waited for me to get there and then pulled out the bat"

The two of you pull into a quiet residential neighborhood. The homes were older, peeling paint and creaky shudders. Kids rode past the cruiser on their bikes, fits of giggles filling the mid-day air. Halfway down the block, the cruiser takes a left and ended up on St. Joseph.

From the windshield, you can see two small figures standing on opposite lawns, pointing at each other. The closer you got, the worse the circumstances became. As Barnes parked the car you could hear the argument seeping in from the driver side window.

As Bucky starts to get out of the car you grab his shoulder, "You aren't going to radio in? This looks pretty bad Barnes."

You both glance out of the window again. The young woman, Mrs. Banks was shouting at Mr.Schulz a man roughly in his 70s or 80s. Banks' wild hands flailing as she pointed to the big brown patch in the middle of her yard. Mr. Schulz stood unamused, obviously waiting to get a word in.

"This is all par for the course Canary bird. Sit tight I'll be back in less than 5 minutes." He climbs out of the vehicle with a grunt, broad back filling the frame of the car window.

15 Minutes, 15 minutes is all it takes for the situation to go from bad to worse. Bucky really did try his best to de-escalate the situation. He separated both parties and spoke to them both in an attempt to get to the bottom of things. As Barnes spoke to Mrs. Banks, Mr. Schulz slipped into his home and quickly emerged with an illegally altered firearm. With the barrel of the gun coming into your view before Schulz, you quickly exited the car.

"Beautiful start to my first day huh?" You whisper to yourself. Rounding the hood of the car. Wide smile cresting your face.

"Good afternoon Mr. Schulz, how are you doing on this lovely sunny day?" you call from across the street. Schulz looks slightly surprised to see another deputy on route. You approach the Schulz residence with feigned confidence. With a little pep in your step you hop the curb and walk up the lawn, million-dollar smile on display.

Both Bucky and Banks turn at the sound of your voice. Bucky's eyeline shifts from you walking across the pavement to Schulz now holding a WW2 era shotgun.

"When the fuck did he get that?" Banks whispers to Barnes.

"I have absolutely no clue."

"And who the hell are you?" Schulz grunts. setting the gun against the wood slats of his home.

"My name is Deputy Y/N, I'm Sergeant Barnes' partner for the day. Nice to meet you," you extend your right hand to him. He looks down at your hand, then back up at your face with disdain. Schulz was a little less than gruff up close. Off white t-shirt littered with stains of the past, ill-fitting pants hung under his round belly. His thin white hair fell wild around his face, and his salt and pepper stubble hugged his cheeks.

'Lack of care, probably from a wife or mother's passing, the house is borderline dilapidated. His body language shows signs of stress.' You took note, still smiling and the unruly man in front of you.

"Not a fan of handshakes?"

"Not a fan of pigs." Schulz states quickly.

"That is understandable. I was never a big fan of the cops either, I'm still not, but the position allows me to help people so I took it." With relaxed shoulders you continue. "Mr. Schulz, what is really the issue here? As you said the presence of the cops is an irritant to you but they're called out to your home once a week. I promise you, James does not want to see you just as much as you don't want to see him." You shift your weight, arms crossing against your chest.

"The fuckin neighbor is the issue! I am constantly dealing with her trash, her dog shits in my yard, two months ago she ran into my mailbox and refused to pay to fix it. I mean the girl is an absolute natural disaster and I'm caught in the storm."

"Have you attempted to take to small claims for the damages?"

"Sweetheart you are clearly not from here. We don't have no damn small claims court. I would have to travel three towns over, and at my age that simply isn't feasible. I ain't got nobody but myself and ole Willy in the house."

"Who's willy?" you ask tilting your head in curiosity.

"My old bastard basset hound. Good for nothing but yellin and eatin."

"So to clarify, she has refused to pay you under the table as well?"

"She says that none of the fucked up shit she is doing to me is even her. WON'T EVEN ADMIT IT."

"You have evidence that it is, for a fact that it has been Banks this whole time?"

"YES. Why he hell do you think I keep callin the damn pigs?" Schulz sighs deeply

"Ok, how about this Schulz, if you want to file, I will personally see to it that you make it to all of your dates myself. How does that sound.?"

"Are you going to put me in the back of that thing?" he points to Bucky's cruiser.

"No," you let out a chuckle, "I will come pick you up in my beat down SUV. How does that sound?"

"Alight well, I guess I'll do it. How do we start?" Schulz gazes at you a small smile replacing his grimaced expression.

"On a day that you and Banks are both free, give us a call and ask for me personally. We will bring you down to the station to file out the initial report for all of the damages. Someone can come out, give you a quantitative estimate for how much you're owed if you don't have insurance and we will take it from there."

"You have been more help in 10 minutes than any of those boneheads have been in the last month Deputy."

"I'm just doing my job Mr. Schulz. If you ever call and have issues getting help, add the 789 extension when calling the station. It will send you straight to my desk phone," with a clap on his shoulder, you continue

" And Schulz? Disassemble that damn gun please. I don't want to see you pass my desk one sunny afternoon because you own illegal firearms and someone more concerned about your gun safety habits found out yeah?" With a nod, you walk over to the cruiser. Bucky leans against the door, gently watching you stroll towards him.

"They will have to come in for some paper filing but the issue has been solved on Schulz's end for now."

"Get in the Car." says blurted

"What did I do?" You tilt your head in bewilderment.

"Deputy get in the car." he says with a little more force.

"Barnes is everything alright? I mean the issue is handled and off your case load. If I were you, I would be jumping for joy," You chirped, opening the passenger side door and slipping in. With the loud CLICK of the car door closing, Barnes turned to face you.

"What the hell was that?" He asks, eyebrows reaching his hairline.

"That was me using all of that good de-escalation training Sheriff Stark and Captain Rhodes kept talking about. You know in that meeting we had today."

"You approached a man with a loaded, altered shotgun with no cover, and you call that de-escalation?"

"Gun wasn't loaded Barnes. The chamber was exposed due to bear scope he put on the gun, I could see the empty chamber from across the street," you smile over at him, the rush of victory filling your body, " Regardless, you didn't even see him slip into the house. You were too busy ogling Mrs. Banks to fix the issue."

"I was not ogling. The girl was in legitimate distress"

"Oh yeah?"

"Yes, she was."

"About what? The fact that she has to pick up after her pet? Or was it her hitting her neighbor's mailbox and not fixing it-"

The radio crackles to life, causing both of your heads to snap forward.

"Any Deputies in the St. John or Harrington drive area? Over." Rodgers' voice rings out of the radio's speakers. Bucky reaches for the receiver clipped to the radio.

"Deputies Barnes and Y/N reporting. Over" he calls, holding the small radio right under his chin.

"Barnes, we just got a call from 2467 Maple. The family's youngest went missing about a month ago and we are due for a house call. Be careful, the house is uh, a little unsettling. Over."

"Heard that Stevie we're headed over now thank you. Over and out." Bucky clips the radio back into place, looking over to you hastily, "We'll put a pin in that conversation from earlier."

"As far as I'm concerned, the conversation is over with."

"Yeah sure, keep chirpin away and see where it lands you." He huffs, turning the car on.

Your face screws up as if you could taste his venom on your tongue, "What the hell does that mean?"

"People around here don't take too kindly to city-slickin' smart asses like you. That's what I mean." And with that you two pull of.

2467 Maple Ct sat at the end of an empty cul-de-sac. A big magnolia tree sat smack dab in the middle of the yard, its sweet, creamy scent wrapping its way around you as the two of you pull into the driveway. Bucky parks behind the dusty old pickup truck that sat in the driveway on cinder blocks.

You two climb the creaky porch stairs, taking note of the crochet blankets hanging from the banister.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

Bucky's fist collides with the solid wooden door, shaking the cross that hung from it.

An aggressive silence stretches between the two of you as the door finally opens.

An older woman greets the two of you with a gentle smile, crow's feet pulling at her eyes. "Thank you so much for coming Sergeant Barnes. It means the world to us." she beckons him inside not sparing you a second glance.

You follow the two inside the home, a carpet-covered staircase greets you first. Baby blue wallpaper covers each room from corner to corner. Bright baseboards and window panes with filet crochet curtains complete the look. Crooked family photos littered the walls of the home alongside biblical imagery. Jesus, Mary, the Wise Men, and Moses all hung in separate ornamental frames that were slightly larger than the frames that housed the family portraits. As the woman pulled Bucky into the kitchen, insisting on making him a cup of tea, you slip up the staircase toward the crucifix nailed to the wall.

Each bedroom you entered was quaint. Thick wooden dressers sat along one wall while tidy beds sat against the other. The worn wood panels of the floor groaned under each step you took. Making your way to the end of the hall, you find what you were looking for.

Kayleh Marshall was 14 years old at the time of her disappearance. The night of March 10th 1995 at about 1:45 am, Kayleh slipped from her home into the night and has not been seen since. When investigators came to collect evidence from the house, they found none of her "valuables" missing. Even her prized possession, Mr. Hops her favorite plush bunny, lay tucked under the soft white covers of her bedspread. That night, under the watchful eye of

ST. Michael who sat perched upon her dresser, she slipped from her bed and out of the door. No sweater or socks, just her small body in a paper thin nightgown floating through the night like a petal off the magnolia tree.

Looking around her bedroom, you could see her everywhere. From The Beatles plastered along her wall, to the fairy music box that sat on her bedside table, nothing had been moved since her departure. Her sheets were thrown back, Mr. Hops' peaking up at you from under the covers. You run your hand along the side of the bed. Your fingertips catch something under the box spring. With a tug, a pink leather bound journal begins to reveal itself.

You sit on the floor and crack open the Journal. "I'm sorry for the invasion of privacy Kayleh," you whisper, "but if it leads me on step closer to you, it will all be worth it."

As you read everything is pretty mundane. Friends, favorite snacks, a boy she was developing a crush on, bible study, stories about butterflies and ladybugs. All things that made sense for an 14 year old girl to write about. Each page filled in the gaps of who Kayleh Marshall really was without the prying eyes of her parents settled on her. From her silly quips to her worries about what they were having for dinner, each page caused your heart to grow heavier and heavier. Where had this girl gone?

A week before March 10th, the tone of her entries shifted. Gone were the holographic butterfly stickers and glittery gel pen, now replaced with rushed pencil markings. Each day she woke up from a nightmare, she would jot them down. All of the nightmares consisted of the same themes. She wakes up in the dream dressed her pajamas, discombobulated. She'd been left by herself somewhere, the forest, a clearing, main street, her own school playground. The scene is completely void of life. Her feet bare, causing the chill around her to worsen. She walks and walks for what feels like hours, looking for any sign of life other than her own. Eventually she hears soft labored breathing coming from around a corner, under a set of stairs, behind a door, somewhere she can't see. Then she wakes up.

Your eyes scan the pages with confusion. Nightmares, along side dietary issues, typically come from some type of real world stressor . The issue settles itself so deep within your subconscious it has no choice but to follow you under. She seemed like a well rounded kid. Her parents fed her good meals, she had good grades, good friends, a good relationship with god. Kayleh had everything a little girl her age building a life in the bible belt could ask for.

Your fingers slip underneath the page, flipping it. The date March 9th, 1995 stares back at you. To your horror this entry was much different than the rest.

The entry titled March 9th, 1995 is as follows.

I had the dream again. The one where I wake up without anyone around. This time I was walking through the cul-de- sac. It must have been the middle of the night because no one was outside and it was still dark out. Anytime i would take a turn down a road I felt off. I walked and walked and found no one. Eventually I decided to try and make my way home. Every time I passed a house it feel lie someone was watching me from the windows or from the sides of the houses. Eventually I made it a street over from home. As I walked down the road a little orange cat appeared! I couched down to pet him, he was so sweet. When I started walking again he followed, I decide I would name him Joey.

Joey and I made our way down the road slowly taking in all of the night time sounds. Having him there was super helpful, he brought me a sense of peace. When I turned the corner, that's when the man. At least that's the best way I could describe him. He was man shaped, he had a head and body, I could see the outline of his hands and his legs too, but he was just dark. Like a shadow. I couldn't see any of his facial features its like he was just made of shadows.

I turned around to run but I couldn't It was like i was frozen there, my back to that thing. The closer he got, the louder he got. He didn't speak but he was loud like static. I turned back around and told myself that he wasn't real and he couldn't hurt me. I kept trying to pray but the words wouldn't come out. With each step he took it looked like he was coming out of his frame??? Like the black static was trying to break free of his human body. Eventually he was right in front of me. I could feel his breathing on my face but there was nothing I could do. So we stood there, his static loud in my ears and his hot breath on my face until he reached for me and That's when I woke up. I was so sweaty and it all felt so real. I think I am going to talk to mom about everything tomorrow, hopefully she can ask the priest to come over on Sunday and bless the house. That usually makes me feel a whole lot better.