Chapter Text
The night rages outside. Winds howl and rain whips, the waves crest and crash relentlessly, recklessly. Nature is throwing a tantrum. Bucky stands by the window in the top of the lighthouse, the building swaying slightly as he looks out at the sea. No one survives without this light, and the light would not be lit without him. This part of the world depends on him. Even with the light, many don’t survive.
He’s been alone most of his tenure here. Retired from the sailing life and good as marooned in this assignment. His life went from New York to a bustling mini city on the seas to solitary confinement. They said they’d visit, but no one comes. So day in and day out, he maintains the light, he watches the seas, he keeps a record of the weather, he fixes walls and ropes and nets, he fishes.
There’s a strange sound, easy enough to ignore in the storm around him. He’ll fix whatever it is later, probably just something fallen off a bookshelf. It comes again, and Bucky recognizes it as a knock. Most likely a loose shutter. He sighs and, taking his eyes away from the sea, stomps down the old wooden stairs. It’s then he realizes the knock is coming from the front door. There hadn’t been a ship coming to harbor, that he’s sure of. No one is expected for weeks. The supply boat isn’t due anytime soon.
Bucky frowns as he opens the door, half certain the wind is playing tricks on his mind. He’s been alone too long. But on his doorstep stands a woman, her long hair is dark, with a greenish hue as the light passes over the wild tendrils dancing in the wind. She looks like she belongs to the sea with her pearlescent pale, wet skin and sea glass eyes.
He stares at her for a long moment, waiting for her to talk and she finally gestures behind her. “There’s a ship that will wreck on the beach. Please go help the crew!” Her voice is like waves on sand, gentle and beckoning.
Bucky shakes his head. “The sea has a claim. It takes what it wants.”
Her eyes burn into him over the threshold. Like the storm, her demeanor shifts from beautiful beggar to hateful harpy. “People will drown!”
“That’s not my job,” Bucky folds his arms over his chest, unmoving in his stature. This mysterious woman nor the reckless sailors who dared sail these seas will not be the reason he leaves his post.
Then she is a wave breaking on rocks. Her form shifts, and she’s crowning in lightning and roiling waves. “Pride shall be your prison, James Barnes. When the tide rises, you’ll wear the skin of the serpent, bound to this light you scorned. Only when another sees the man within the monster and trusts you with their life will the sea release you.” Her razor sharp teeth bared, she hisses at him, turning her back to disappear into the raging water.
And when the tides comes in, the thrum comes, like waves crashing in his ribcage. His pulse pounds like a drum, faster, deeper. Heat overtakes him so he sheds his jacket and hat, pacing away from the fire and into his cooler bedroom until he’s shivering. With a cold pain, his skin splits, erupting in scales. The skin of a serpent. Bucky runs for the front door, collapsing in the doorway as his spine arches, joints cracking like timbers in a storm. Sharp pain shoots through his jaw and new sharp teeth cut his finger as he tries to rub away the ache. It only matters for a second until he no longer has fingers but webbed fins and claws. For a breathless moment, he’s sure he’ll suffocate. His lungs burn. Bucky pushes himself up and sprints for the water. He runs down the length of the dock, careful not to slip on the wet wood, and dives into the ocean. Gills. He has gills that somehow feel like breathing and drowning all at once. It feels so right somehow. The water welcomes him, he’s strong against the current. And then, Bucky slithers into the deep, where the water is calm, to wait until the tide changes.