"Sir? I don't understand."

"I want you to come with me, and stay silent," the Soldier commanded under his breath. He was leading you down a dark and winding hallway, your bodies pressed tightly to the wall as to not be seen as you moved. "I'm transporting you to D.C., where I've set up a safe house for you. I've arranged for someone to pick you up from there in exactly 48 hours. You will not step foot outside of that building until that exact moment. I've put those directions in your pack so that you don't forget, along with a few more specifics that you'll need to meet up with your contact there. You are going to follow exactly what's written. That's an order."

"Yes, sir," you nodded curtly, but you still couldn't put all the pieces of this puzzle together. Your mind had been broken so many times over the last few years of Hydra experiments, that it was like putting together pieces from completely different puzzles and none of them fit. "Will you be staying with me during that time?"

"No," he answered immediately, "I can't. I have to return to my post quickly before they realize what I've done." He reached out and took your arm within his metal hand, ensuring that you wouldn't be able to break free, through your growing strength against him gave him the flash of a moment's pause that he misjudged you, and his grip tightened. "Listen to me, alright? This has to be done. I can't train you anymore."

"Have I failed you?"

"No, not at all. It's the opposite," the Soldier sighed heavily, "you've impressed me beyond expectations. So much so that I know you can't stay. Something, somewhere buried in me is a voice telling me that this is the right thing to do. Something is telling me that this was never where you belonged and I'm not supposed to be a part of this."

"But...what will I do?" you finally had to ask, despite his look of warning to stay quiet. "What will I do without you there? Sir, I know nothing if you're not there to guide me."

He shook his head, feeling even more remorse for what he had spent years doing to you. He was only following his own orders, he knew that, but it didn't quiet that damn voice pushing in to his mind. They would wipe him again, that was a certainty; they would remove any trace of you from his memory so that he wouldn't interfere further, especially if they were to find you. That was why this plan had to work. This plan was all he had, and it was your only chance to escape the hell that he would still continue to live. "You will learn a new life, because this one will be gone. I'm making sure of that."

Before you could argue, even though you likely would never argue with your commander, he pushed you through one of the doorways and back into the large and uncomfortable chair that you had come to know too well, swinging the apparatus around to press tightly against your head to keep you immobile. He stepped aside to begin the process of freeing your mind once and for all, but paused, returning to say his final words to you before he wiped your thoughts clean of any trace of him.

"You could never fail me."

With the slightest flip of hand, the mechanism came to life, a surge of voltage coursing through you in an instant, sending a wave so strong that you were pressed into the chair hard enough to make even breathing difficult. That didn't matter, however, because all you felt was pain, and it was everywhere; it was so overpowering that your body was just a mass with no distinguishable parts because they all seared with agony. You had squeezed your eyes shut tight when it hit, but you forced yourself to open them again to look at him, almost defiantly, but his own pain seemed to mimic yours and you couldn't stand to witness it.

When the process was complete, all you knew was confusion, your mind now an almost blank slate, ready to be bent to his will. This man had to be in charge, just by his authoritative posture over you as he released the restraints that held you. You didn't fight him, because there was no reason to. All you knew to do was to wait for your orders, because that was the only thing that felt right.

"Do not look for me," he said flatly. "Do not come back here, ever. Stay away from Hydra, please. You are better than this. Do not be like me. Promise me."

"I promise, sir. I will follow your orders, without fail."

"Good. Then let me give you the last order you'll ever hear from this voice," he agreed, bending down slightly to take your chin gently in his hand. "Your name is (Y/N), and you are to do everything that Nick Fury directs you to do without question. You will be who you were meant to be despite everything that I've done to you. If you insist on remembering anything about me, remember that I will always be sorry. For all of it."

~~~

Bucky groaned and pulled away from Wanda's hold, a flash of disorientation washing over him at the break in her connection. She was the only hope he had to find a way into whatever memories of you he was blocking in his fractured brain, and even though it wasn't as much as he had hoped, it was something. Wanda sat still and silent as he brought himself back into reality, watching him hold his head in his hands as the sensation began to calm, even though his thoughts were raging faster than ever.

"Well, I suppose I can feel good about that at least," he sighed, "I got her away from Hydra. I guess I wasn't totally evil."

"You were never evil, Bucky," she argued emphatically, "that would be impossible. Who you are was always inside of you, just buried. No matter what they did to you, they couldn't remove the core of your being."

"That's nice of you to say, thanks. Hard to believe, but nice to say." Bucky finally felt like he could lift his head again, steadying himself with a hand gripped tightly to the arm of the chair just in case he was wrong. He opened his eyes and waited just a beat, nodding definitively before standing and turning to walk away from his teammate before she foiled his plan.

"Where are you going?"

"To talk to (Y/N)."

"Are you sure it's a good idea? Your last encounters with her have been eventful to say the least. What is it that you're going to say?"

"I have to tell her what I know, Wanda," he argued, "because she doesn't even know this much. I repressed it all from her memory, and I owe it to her to be the one to bring her the truth, even if it isn't much yet. I have to tell her what I did."

"And who will that help?" she pushed back, standing to meet his eyes directly. "Will it help her to know that you erased her final memories of Hydra and who she used to be? Will it help her to know that her newest teammate once had such control over her, and that you had her do things that she would likely not even want to remember? Is this helping her, Bucky? Or is this to assuage your own guilt somehow, merely to help yourself?"

Bucky was silenced by both her questions and her accusations, his mouth agape in surprise as he listened. He thought about how he would answer each of them, his explanations always coming back to wanting to help repair what he had been such an active part of destroying. But now it became painfully true that Wanda was voicing a valid point; what was in all of this for him?

"Well," he shrugged, daring a small grin, "why can't it help us both?"

~~~

Bucky had almost a spring in his step after his meeting with Wanda, making his way through the compound with a new appreciation for having you back in his life, even if only on the periphery as of yet. You had been wiped from his mind, just as he had predicted, and now he had been given a second chance at reparation. He felt at least some comfort in knowing that even as the Winter Soldier, there was a part of him that was good, and that had seen through what Hydra was doing enough to halt it. Even now as an Avenger, and after taking back the name Bucky, he had his doubts about his character and about the blind faith that Steve had put in him; he felt as if no matter how much good he did in the world around him, he would never live up to that standard. That was the problem with Steve, though; the punk never saw him for what he really was. He saw what he wanted Buck to be, and that was the problem with every version of Bucky; he never believed that he could be what Steve knew was inside of him all along.

But now, he had this tiny chance to do some real good, and he actually couldn't wait to get started. He made his way towards the bank of elevators that would take him up to the floor where your room was located, pausing for just a second when he thought he heard the sounds of a quinjet departing. He turned and looked out the windows towards the hangar and launch pad and saw nothing, chalking it up to an overactive imagination after his connection with Wanda.

His thumb hit the button and the door opened, only to be met face-to-face and nearly slamming into Sam, the two men stumbling to avoid each other, grabbing the other's arm to hold steady and upright.

"Jesus, man, what's the emergency?" Sam gasped. "Elevator etiquette has really tanked around here."

"Sorry, I just had things on my mind, it was my fault."

"Oh yeah, like what?"

"It's a long story," Bucky sighed with a heavy shrug, "maybe I'll catch you up later over a beer. I need to talk to (Y/N) first. Do you happen to know if she's awake yet?"

"Uh, yeah, I'd say she's awake. She just took off with Nat and Steve in the jet a couple of minutes ago. Said they should be back by end of the day, though."

"Shiiit," Bucky muttered, "is a mission really a good idea after what happened?"

"Mission? What the hell are you talking about? There's no mission. Cap said they were going to do some off-site training or something like that. Didn't really give me any specifics though, and I didn't think to ask."

"Is that common to do training out in the open like that?"

"Hmm, well, now that I think of it, can't say that it's come up before."

Bucky's senses were heightened now, his skin crawling with a building panic and he couldn't definitively pinpoint why. "Sam, you said it was Nat and Steve? Only those two with her?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks," he answered quickly, giving Sam a slap on the arm as he hurried away towards the hangar.

"Hey, man, hold on!" Sam called out after him, giving chase. "Tell me what's up! Where are you going?"

"How many jets does this place have?"

"A couple. Come on, stop running and talk to me! Maybe I can help you with whatever terrible decision you've just made!"

Bucky stopped abruptly, turning to face Sam to wait while his teammate caught up, "Sam, I can't give you specifics, but I have a bad feeling about Steve and Nat taking (Y/N) off-site by themselves. It's not something I can explain, partly because I can't imagine them doing anything suspicious, but also because I just can't say anything to you about it. You're just gonna have to trust me that I need to check this out for myself."

"Hell, I don't know you well enough for trust yet. So, I'm coming with you."

"No, Sam, I've got this."

"Oh, I'm sure you do, new guy, but you don't have security clearance yet-"

"To fly the jet," Bucky grumbled, throwing his hands up in defeat and annoyance to yell out into the open hallway around him, directed clearly at FRIDAY. "So, what the hell do I have clearance for? Is someone gonna help chew my food for me too?"

"You have level one clearance, Mr. Barnes," she answered matter-of-fact.

Bucky waited, staring at Sam expectantly and waiting for the punchline to tell him what that really meant, but the A.I. had remained silent. "Okay, just say it, Wilson. How bad is it?"

"One is also known as the Potty Training level."

"Why?"

"Because the most information that you're trusted with at that point, is a map of where all of the bathrooms are. Stark thought it was funny as hell until someone got lost and peed in one of his plants."