Trigger Warning: Symptoms of PTSD.

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"After all the things I've done,
How could I even think I deserve to be loved?"

BUCKY

They quickly followed her inside. Selene motioned for them sit anywhere they'd like while she grabbed her laptop from the cream-colored kitchen island. "Where's Fong?"

"Running some errands with Kaia," Nadine replied vaguely. Though he wasn't keen on joining in on the fight, Fong still decided to come along. Dante and Taj were like his sons, after all. "They're planning our stay in Italy."

"We heard the weather was lovely over there," Bucky drawled, his tone dripping in sarcasm.

"The Winter Soldier has a sense of humour?" Selene muttered dryly, narrowing her black eyes at him. So they did tell her about him, he realized. "Interesting. Selene Mebarak."

He shook her hand once, noticing how her gaze settled on his gloved hand. He stuffed it into his jacket pocket for good measure. "Bucky Barnes. A pleasure."

The woman nodded and sat down next to Emilia on the navy blue couch, quickly getting to work with the Colombian's phone. Nadine placed a glass of water on the table in front of Bucky and did the same with the two women. "Selene's brilliant at finding people. If you need someone for an investigation, she's your woman."

"And if you need to illegally transfer money into your account," Emilia piped in, sarcasm dripping in her tone. "She's your woman."

Was she joking?

"Hey," Selene snapped, and Bucky could've sworn she sounded embarrassed. Nonetheless, she didn't look up from the work she was doing. "I don't do that anymore."

Nadine furrowed her brows as she studied her curiously, setting herself on the other seat across from Bucky. "What do you do?"

"We've tracked a British nationalist group to this area, and we've been sent to investigate what they're doing," Selene replied. "You're lucky my partners left to meet their handlers."

Suddenly, Emilia was more interested in her water. "About that..."

Selene stopped typing and glared at her. "What did you do?!"

"It's better if you don't know," Bucky replied, his tone apologetic. He didn't know what the Colombian did, but the last time she took matters into her own hands she started a war between criminal organizations. Having Selene's partners chase their own tails was nothing. "Let's just say they'll be out for a while."

"Moving on from Emilia's illegal activity, this nationalist group, what are they doing?"

Selene looked at her, her hand fluttering towards the colored cloth -a hijab, he remembered it was called- on her head. She seemed bothered by something. "They're targetting Muslims."

"What?" Nadine questioned, her eyebrows pinching together in anger. "Who are they?"

"We don't know if they're something bigger yet," she confessed, shaking her head once. The way she pressed her lips together made it clear that she was holding down some anger. "But I can't really say I'm surprised. I go out with a hijab and I get harassed on the street, or worse."

"I'm so sorry, Selene."

Selene waved a hand dismissively, but clearly it bothered her more than she pretended it to be. Her thin, pressed lips and sharp sigh were an indication of it. "I'm used to it. You know this. I will not be shamed for my faith." 

If Nadine assumed Bucky was lost on what they were speaking about, she didn't make any indication. Not that it mattered anyway; he'd seen plenty of Muslims during his time. During the war, there were talks that Muslims fought for the British, but he'd never gotten the chance to talk to them face to face.

Regardless of that, during his time with HYDRA, the ones he'd crossed paths with were never his allies.

They were his victims.

Young, old, men, women, with names, faces, lives...

Families.

Bucky looked at Selene, imagining her dressed like the women he'd encountered. And for a moment, her face was hidden in a blur.

But he could still see his arm stretched out and hear the sound of the gun when he pulled the trigger.

"Milan," Selene's voice seemed distant, like an echo getting lost in the wind. His mouth was dry and he couldn't swallow. "It traces back to Milan."

He chugged the glass of water in hopes that it would soothe his burning, tightening throat, faces blurring together behind his eyelids; they were full of fear and anguish, silently pleading for mercy that never came.

For the mercy he never gave them.

"Bucky."

He jumped at the sound of his name, his eyes drifting towards Emilia. She looked at him once before shifting her gaze downwards. At what, exactly, he didn't know or care. "You okay?"

He couldn't find a way to speak, so he looked at the glass in his gloved hand, broken into chunks by the pressure he'd applied. His heart rate was through the roof still, but he managed to place the glass on the coffee table in front of him, and stand up. "I... I need some air..."

"James?" Nadine called as he made his way to the door, but he didn't turn around. He needed to get out of there. He needed to look at something else. "James!"

A hand gripped his bicep, and though at the back of his mind he registered that it was Nadine, the rest of him reacted way before that. He shook her hand off and twisted his body, ready to attack. 

"Easy," she whispered, her tone calm. She held her hands up for him, like the other times something like this happened. "Easy. Talk to me, please."

Unlike that first time at the pool, there was nothing in her gaze that made her untrustworthy, nor was she wary of Bucky either. She was only worried, judging by her lowered eyebrows and softened features.

"I'm sorry about the glass. I just..."

"It's okay," she reassured, shaking her head. The loose strands of hair on her cheeks moved with the gesture. "I just want to know what's going on with you."

How was he going to do that? How could he explain the irrational fear that was forcing him to observe her movements? He didn't know how to explain it, not with words out loud. The only thing he knew was what the doctors in Wakanda said. Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, they called it. The nightmares, the paranoia, the fear, the flashbacks, the sounds...

God, the sounds. Those lingered the longest. It was the worst.

"I'm fine," Bucky assured her, but even he wasn't convinced. He could feel his heart creeping up to his throat, choking him.

Like all those times he choked-

"James."

His name coming from her lips was an anchor, keeping him from drowning in the trauma he'd been trying so hard to keep buried.

And yet he could feel himself slipping.

"I said I'm fine, Nadine," he snapped harshly, immediately regretting it once he saw the look of hurt on her face.

Damn it.

"I'm sorry," he muttered and rubbed his hands over his heavy eyes. He hated making her feel bad and not understanding why he was doing it. It was like he wasn't even in control and he couldn't stand it. "I'm sorry. You were, talking, talking to Selene about her religion and I, I don't know... all I could see, was this woman... I killed her. Made it look like an attack."

Nadine was confused for a moment. She took her time to think and he decided to focus on the crinkle that formed between her brows when she was pensive. The little detail was keeping him distracted from the fact that in the back of his head he could still hear the gunshots and the whir of his old arm as he swung it at-

"A political attack," she finally said, her emotionless tone snapping him back. The depth of her brown eyes held something intense, a heartbreak that couldn't properly be described, but was only reserved for the most terrible of revelations. Like this one.

Bucky was ashamed of the answer.

"Yes... And the worst part? Even if we pretend that, uh, Winter is, not me, I still have the memories. I see their faces, Nadine."

"All of them?" she asked, eyebrows raised. Her hands unconsciously fiddled with the sleeves of her beige colored sweater, he noticed.

"All of them," Bucky confirmed, and his heart was heavy. He didn't even remember all of their names, not because of his old programming, but because they didn't tell him. They showed him who he needed to kill, and his handlers did the rest. He'd never be able to get closure for all that he'd done.

The families would never get closure for what he'd done.

Nadine was silent, and it was clear that she didn't know what to say. He couldn't blame her, nor was he mad at her for it. He didn't need her pity, or some sympathetic "I'm sorry". Out of all the people he'd met, she was one of the only ones whom he didn't want to hear that from. She understood, which is why she said nothing and only extended her hand towards his. Unfortunately, the gesture caused him to back up, his hands placed in front of him in caution.

He couldn't risk it.

"I'm not going to hurt you," she said, her hand still extended towards him.

He hated the pain in her voice.

"I know." 

And Bucky did know it, but his paranoia was pretty high, and he didn't want to risk it. He wouldn't be able to live with himself if Nadine ended up hurt because of him. "I just need to think."

And I don't want to hurt you, he wished he had said, but he didn't. He couldn't.

All he could do was continue down the steps before Nadine could utter a reply.

• • •

The icy air filled his lungs as he sat on a bench near the apartment complex they were at. He decided to concentrate on any movements that happened around him as he waited for the call he was making to be answered.

He counted four others in the area. Two women, a man with a dog, and a child that played with said dog. The women across the street stood and spoke about something he couldn't decipher, but by the way the brunette laughed, it seemed like something light. The man sat at a bench to Bucky's left and simply watched the little boy play with the dog, which was arguably bigger than the child. All friendlies, he established. Their mannerisms were too casual to be anything else.

The phone finally stopped ringing, and it was followed by a "Don't tell me, Nadine's finally kicking you out."

"Fuck you, Wilson," Bucky replied, both grateful and annoyed for Sam's banter.

"Careful, Steve doesn't like it when people swear," Natasha quipped, and Bucky could imagine the smirk on her face.

He heard Steve scoff. "Fuck you, Na-"

"-Shush, Bucky's waiting for you to ask him how he is."

He sighed loudly, clearly irritated with her teasing, which made Bucky snort in mild amusement. "How are you, Buck?"

Oh, boy.

"Fine," he replied after a second of silence, ignoring the way his knee wouldn't stop shaking. "Like I've said every time we've talked."

Steve wasn't convinced. "Can't help but ask, I guess."

"We're in Switzerland right now, but we're heading out tonight." Where exactly, he didn't remember. "I'll be sending you the location once I get it."

"I hope you're being careful."

"We are, Steve," he replied, his tone more derisive than he intended. "Don't worry."

If Steve was offended by his words, he didn't mention it. "Well, we'll be there to help. Nat's trying to speed things up."

"Someone has to find those two idiots," Natasha drawled, her dry tone so indifferent to the fact that those idiots, as she referred to them, could very well be dead. Or maybe she just chose not to think about it.

Bucky wished he was the same.

"I appreciate it."

"Not doing it for you," she replied.

"What're you doing?" Someone asked from behind him, which made him swing his arm backward. When he turned at the obvious lack of contact, he came face to face with a wide-eyed Emilia, who was trying to contain her laughter at his reaction. The little shit. "Are you talking to your special friends?"

"Buck?" Steve asked, his tone curious. "Who's there?"

"It's Emilia," he responded, huffing in irritation at her habit of sneaking up on people. "Anyway, I'll be sending you whatever we've got. Be careful."

"When am I not careful?"

It was Sam's turn to scoff. "I keep a list, do you want it digitized or on paper?"

"Shut up, Sam," Steve quipped.

"Okay, I'm hanging up. Don't die, punk."

"You too, jerk."

"Aww," Emilia cooed as he hung up and quickly settled herself next to him on the bench. Bucky took note of how she placed her hands under her arms, a clear sign that she was cold. "Muscles misses his friends. That's adorable."

"What are you doing here, Emilia?" he asked, tightly, his gaze shifting back towards the man with the kid and dog. He was picking up his stuff now and seemed ready to leave.

She shrugged, and if he didn't know any better, he'd say she was full of naivety, but the story of Emilia stabbing a heel into a man's eye prevented that. "Thought you could use the company."

"I don't."

"Your tone tells me you do," she retorted. "I'm also here to tell you that Selene may have pinpointed their location to some casino in Milan."

"A casino?" he asked, not really paying attention. The man placed a leash on the dog and took the kid's hand, and off they went to whatever destination was next.

"Yeah."

"Great, just great."

"You're awfully snippy." He felt her staring, and he just knew she was analyzing him.  It took everything in him not to feel uncomfortable with her staring. "Is this because I'm a cockblocker?"

"What?!" Bucky half-yelled, floored by the question. He didn't expect that, at all. "No!"

Emilia laughed. She laughed so much, her dimples were as sharp as ever. "O-Oh, please! How are you Winter? Your lying's terrible! I know something happened!"

Obviously, she was right. 

"Nothing happened."

"Por Dios," she scoffed. "Do you like Nadine?"

"Дерьмо-" Bucky didn't even know what to say. For once, he couldn't lie his way out of something. "Do you even know what you're implying?! No, I don't."

Emilia wasn't convinced at all. "Okay, fine. Relax, Muscles, it was just a question."

"It was just a question," he repeated, shaking his head incessantly. "Yeah, a fucking unnecessary one. Just like this conversation."

"This conversation distracted you enough, didn't it?" she pointed out, raising her eyebrows in amusement.

Bucky, confused by what she meant, hadn't realized that it actually did distract him from his episode. His knee stopped shaking, his hands had unclenched, and his heart rate wasn't as high as it used to be. Hell, even his paranoia decreased significantly, seeing as his concentration was directed at Emilia and her questions.

"Yeah," he admitted, grateful for what she'd done. "It did."

She nodded, tilting her head curiously at him. "Do you want to talk about it?"

He knew that he should, but talking about it was something he still had trouble with, especially right after something happened. His mind's too cluttered, too foggy for him to explain why he experienced the episode he did.

Where would he even start, anyway?

"Okay, we don't have to talk about it." Despite her pushing demeanor, Emilia also knew when not to cross a line. She understood and didn't force them. "We can just talk about how you might be developing an attachment and that you seem pretty defensive about it."

"Even if there was something, she'd clearly regret it," he replied, cringing when he realized what he said. He literally fell into her trap.

"So something did happen! Didn't think you had the cojones to do something, what with the whole metal arm and trauma and stuff."

His mind drifted to Nadine. Her smile, her competitive streak, her agile reflexes.

Her ability to push him away...

"I'm sorry," Emilia's tone softened considerably at seeing him so downcast, and he realized that she looked racked with guilt. "I didn't mean to hurt you. Fong says I hide behind my dark humor. Says it's a defense mechanism. I think he's smoking crack, but..."

"It's not you," he assured her, hoping to alleviate her guilt. "I just thought, maybe because I'm not under HYDRA's control anymore, I could have a chance at something... at something real. At first, it was just a fresh start, but then..."

Then Nadine happened. He got to know her, spend time with her, and learn things about her that he started to like. And every time he seemed to get past a wall she'd built for herself, he realized that he liked the woman behind them. She was real. Complicated, but real. Now, the only thing he was starting to feel was that he didn't deserve any of it.

Did life really hate him that much?

Bucky ran his hands through his hair in frustration. "This wasn't supposed to happen! Nadine's right to regret it. It's a fantasy to think that we could have something so, normal."

Emilia placed a hand on his shoulder, a sign of comfort. When he shifted his gaze towards her, she gave him a small, sad smile, like she understood his doubts. "Love isn't normal, Bucky, and you deserve to be happy. Nadine does too. She had a chance to retire, but she didn't because she thought she didn't deserve it. So, she became a merc and never accepted that she can have a life outside of all of this. Until you."

"Me?" he asked in disbelief.

"Yeah. You came along and I think, I think she's realized that she can fall in love, despite it all." Emilia half-shrugged, as if she knew all along what was bound to happen between them. She probably did; she was way too observant for her own good. "Give her a chance to think. She's probably just scared shitless."

He had to admit, he was surprised by the amount of wisdom shining through her wittiness. The undertone of it all made it seem as if she spoke from experience. So, naturally, he grew curious. "Have you ever fallen in love, Emilia?"

"Once," she replied softly. "While I was forcefully in high school. We planned to go to college. I was happy, but then Nadine and I went to get Jameson, and I, I broke things off."

The woman seemed nostalgic, and for a moment, Bucky regretted making her relive it. Clearly, she missed that period of her life, or at the very least, the happiness she felt during that time, and thinking about it must've been difficult.

"Love is a dangerous thing," she said, a small smile gracing her features. "But it's also the thing that can make you feel alive."

"Do you miss him?" he asked, curious to know about the person who'd won such a lethal, little woman's heart. Must've been some guy.

"I miss her, yes."

Or girl.

"Wait... oh, oh. Shit, I'm sorry. Wait, not for that, I mean I'm sorry for assuming she was a guy. I mean, it's a normal-"

"Okay, super soldier," she mused, chuckling at his fumbling. She gave him a soft pat on his hand as a sign of reassurance. "Don't strain yourself."

"I'm sorry," he apologized again.

She rolled her eyes at his apology, but the amusement was there. "It's fine."

"Do you wonder what she's doing right now?"

"Yeah," she confirmed. "Sometimes. I never got the courage to find out, though. Same with my parents."

Dante mentioned their parents once, he remembered. They're alive, but unaware of the fate of their children. When Bucky questioned why they never reconnected, Dante flipped the question back at him. "Would you? After everything you've done?"

He wouldn't. And he never questioned their motives again.

"Well, maybe after this is over, we could track them down," he offered, cautious of not pushing it. Just because Dante didn't want to see them, it didn't mean his sister was the same. For all he knew, she probably did want to see them, maybe even talk to them again.

Emilia turned towards him in disbelief, dark eyes like a storm. "Really?"

"Emilia, of course," he replied, giving her hand a slight squeeze. She chuckled at the gesture. "I specifically remember you saying that you were willing to punch your brother in the face for me. I think helping you stalk your ex and parents is the least I could do."

"I'd like that," she said. "But only after you figure things out with Nadine."

And they're back to that. Of course. Clearly, there was no way around it. "I don't think-"

"-Muscles, I swear, if you two don't talk about it I'll lock you inside a windowless room until you do. Got it?"

"Thanks."

Emilia stood up from her place, stretching her tense limbs to fight the cold, and extended her hand towards him once again. He took it and stood up, chuckling at the fact that his hand was way bigger than hers. It was hilarious how different they were, but he was glad he earned her friendship. He needed someone to balance out his pessimistic attitude. "Of course. You know if you ever need someone to talk you down, you can count on me. Now, let's kill some ninjas."

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WORD TRANSLATION:
1) Por Dios (spanish)- for the love of God
2) Дерьмо (russian)- shit
3) cojones (spanish)- balls

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A/N: Emilia and Bucky are such a wild pair lmao

As for Islam in the time of World War II, I decided not to delve too much into the topic out of respect. Many Muslims fought for the Allies in WWII, as far as I've read, so I decided to add a little historic easter egg.

ANYWAY, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and I really hope I did this portrayal well. I read up on the symptoms of PTSD so I could do this chapter.

Also, I decided due to the lack of good Bucky playlists that I would add ten songs that helped me write Bucky's perspective this time around. Here they are below!

JAMES BUCHANAN "BUCKY" BARNES

1) Roaring 20's | Panic! At the Disco
2) Breath of Life | Florence + The Machine
3) I'm So Sorry | Imagine Dragons
4) Angel with a Shotgun | The Cab
5) Monster | Paramore
6) Hysteria | Muse
7) My Friends | Bohnes
8) Where Are You Now? | Royal Blood
9) Never Back Down | Nine Lashes
10) I Want To Break Free | Queen

See you next time, guys!