Becoming an Avenger had happened almost by accident; it definitely wasn't the plan to make you into one of Earth's mightiest heroes when Nick Fury had pulled you from the ranks of Hydra to work for him. Your former bosses had made into one of Earth's mightiest assassins, so your skill set was already pretty solid, to say the least. It was so solid, in fact, that there was only one person he trusted enough to take you under their wing, and only one person who would even be willing; Natasha Romanoff.

You had joined the group right after the Battle of New York, once Tony caught a glimpse of you in action on the streets, fighting at their side without having even been called in. With every pass he had flown overhead, he would see you doing something that left him speechless, which was a feat that Nick appreciated more than the rest of your new team. Tony had watched you take on a group of no less than ten Chitauri alone, only to make quick work of them before taking on a group equally as large without missing a beat. If he hadn't have had to deal with that pesky nuclear missile, he would have approached you before you had a chance to run off without being seen by anyone else. Much to his relief, Nick knew every move you ever made, and he had brought you into the team at Tony's urging with deaf ears meeting your continued arguments against the idea.

Nat had taken you out of the country to work together for a while, dragging Clint along for the ride; the man had a penchant for getting bored, which only led to trouble, so she figured an extra set of hands would only get the work done faster. That was how you came to trust them, when you realized that their intentions actually were good. Your days with Hydra left you riddled with inhibitions and a severe lack of trust in anyone who came close to finding interest in you. In fact, it had taken Nick years to gain your favor, but in the matter of months, these two broke through your wariness. It wouldn't take long for the rest of the team to follow behind, though even with your new artificial family, you kept to yourself for the most part, finding much more comfort in solitude than in team building.

But that was about to become more prevalent than ever before, in a wave of unexpected fear, remorse, exhilaration, and sadness that you never expected. In all actuality, you had no reason to, as the memories that were about to slam your mind had been buried so deep that no one would have known they could ever be found; not even those who had forced them into darkness.

"(Y/N)," Steve approached almost hesitantly, "this is Bucky Barnes. Buck, this is (Y/N)."

"Pleasure, ma'am," he offered, his hand extended to you. You took it willingly, despite the sound of your own voice echoing in your head, screaming for you to stop before it went to a place that you couldn't be protected from. When your skin made contact with his, you immediately knew that you had made a mistake and yanked it away.

"Nice to meet you, but I...I have to go," you gasped, turning and all but sprinting for the stairwell door. It left everyone in the room standing silent and confused, looking to each other for explanation, but none more than the team's newest member, and when Steve began to support your apology, Bucky hadn't heard a word of it as he watched you leave.

"Wow, Barnes," Clint scoffed, "you have a way with the ladies just like Cap."

~~~

After locking yourself away in your room, you knew that Nat wouldn't be far behind to see if you were alright, and as much as you wanted her help and comfort, you couldn't place what you were feeling to begin to tell her anyway. You had been left somewhere between panic and nausea, with a side of adrenaline that left you yearning to run, to anywhere. Whoever this guy was, something in your locked away history knew him, or thought that it did, and you were trying to decide if it was worth pursuing the answer or pursuing the easy way out. When the knock on your door finally came, you laughed quietly at the idea that anything could ever be easy.

"Go away, Nat, I'm fine."

"You didn't seem fine," came the answer, but in Bucky's voice, and not the friend that you had expected.

"Oh, sorry," you backpedaled, but yet to move; the sound in his words guaranteed your immobility. "I was expecting someone else. Really, I'm okay, you can go."

"Okay, yeah, sure...well, it was nice to meet you, too...maybe we can talk sometime?"

"Yeah. Maybe." You sat perfectly still, barely even allowing your chest to move with your restrained breaths, waiting for the sound of his heavy footsteps to clear away. Even though it had taken a matter of seconds for the hallway to find silence, you couldn't bring yourself to move. So many pictures were flashing and terrorizing your mind that it left your senses uncertain, and you feared that if you tried to stand, you wouldn't be able to hold yourself up. Face after face crossed your thoughts, from people you had worked alongside of with SHIELD, those who were your fellow assassins at Hydra, and the endless number of lives you had taken with both entities. The sheer volume of souls that were taken by your hands left you numb, until the familiar finally snapped you out of it.

It was the Winter Soldier, and it wasn't Bucky, exactly, but maybe some version of the man between the two. Whoever he was now, whatever version of himself that he was wearing, it was enough to reach this far into your memory, and now you were afraid of what else could happen if you faced him again. You were afraid to know what you didn't know anymore.

"Yeah...or maybe not."

~~~

Bucky had wandered through the building slowly, making his way back towards where the team was waiting, his own mind a jumbled mess of confusion and haunted memories. He was in much the same condition as you were, just as reluctant to pursue his questions any further, but with an unrelenting voice urging him to do exactly that. He had stopped at turned back towards your door so many times in only a few steps, but he couldn't make himself change direction, cursing himself quietly under his breath. He kept on allowing the distance to grow between you, both literally and figuratively, until the sound of your footfall behind him left him no choice.

"Hey," he greeted slowly, but stopped with eyes wide at the sight of your suitcase in your hands, "woah, hold on, where are you going?"

"Shiiiit," you groaned, dropping your gaze and quickening your steps as you approached him. "Bucky, I'm sorry, but I can't stay here. It's more important that you stay with Steve, he can help you. I'm only going to make this worse...I have to go." You tried to push past him, though his sheer size alone took up almost half of the damn hallway, making it nearly impossible without making contact again. Your arm brushed against his hand when he reached out to stop you, and his fingers curled around it before you could pull away. "Don't-"

"Are you afraid...of me..." he gasped, feeling the connection again, only this time, the images in his tortured mind stopped, leaving just one that matched the view his eyes were now desperately searching over. "(Y/N)...we know each other."

"Yeah, that's the conclusion that I got too," you agreed, still trying to pull from his grip and failing. "Bucky, let me go."

"No."

"This isn't a good idea."

"How do you know that?"

"Call it intuition?" you shrugged. "Since when has anything that Hydra's ever done been a good idea?"

Bucky stopped and considered what you were saying; true, the creation of his alter ego was a terrible idea, but he didn't know what that meant for you. "What did they do to you?"

"This isn't happening. Bucky, let me go before I make you let me go."

"What ya gonna do?" He asked the question not out of worry, but curiosity, and you read it easily in his eyes. He had very rarely, if even ever, felt that anyone was a true threat to him, though now if it were possible that you knew each other in the past life of Hydra, he needed to size you up in case you were to be the first. "(Y/N)?"

When you muttered something under your breath, he caught the hint of Russian in whatever it was, and he froze. It allowed you the precious seconds needed to spin within his grip, using your free arm to slam your elbow down into his and force his release from the jolt. You pushed your body back against his and knocked him from his gait enough so you could take a step away and lift your foot into his chest, thrusting him back and into the wall with a grunt of air forced from his lungs. "That."

He didn't move right away, staring straight ahead at you, but it felt as if he were looking through you. His eyes darted slightly, following the track that his mind was taking him on, and you wondered if he were on the path to the answer that you were both needing when he became re-animated and took a step towards you again, his purpose feeling ominous. "(Y/N), tell me what you said."

"When?"

"You know when," he growled, albeit quietly, but it was enough to raise your heartbeat in response. "Tell me."

"Bucky-"

"Tell me!" he snapped, and you found his hands on you again, this time pushing you into the wall with a hold by the metal arm that you knew you couldn't escape. His forearm pressed against your chest to hold you in place, it's strength barely allowing you to take in any air.

"Hey, Barnes, what the hell are you doing?" Clint interrupted, hurrying forward with a push against Bucky's chest, to no result. "Come on, man, back off."

"Tell me," he asked again, softer and pleading.

"Honestly, I don't remember. I swear, I don't. Whatever it was, it just came out."

"Let her go, Barnes," Clint warned again, letting out a sigh of relief that he hoped you hadn't heard when you were released; he didn't like the feeling of not being in control of a situation, especially when he could feel his own fear rising in his throat as he spoke. "Alright, who's gonna tell me what that was all about? And...wait, (Y/N)...why do you have your suitcase?"

"That's what I was trying to stop," Bucky answered for you, "she thinks that she should leave because I'm here. She's under the impression that I can't handle her being here, and she couldn't be more wrong. I know that we know each other and we should be working on figuring out how."

"Oh, please," you retorted angrily, "did you ever once stop to think that maybe I'm the one who can't handle it? Are you so goddamn conceited that it never crossed your mind at all to think past yourself? Get your hands off of me. Now."

Bucky did as you said, releasing you and stepping back several feet to make a clear path for you to get your suitcase from where you had dropped it before dropping him on his ass. He watched as if it were all happening in slow motion now, the heaviness of your steps away from him echoing in his head like a jackhammer, the headache immediate. He stood at Clint's side and waited for the door of your room to close before breaking the silence that had been awkward enough before this all happened. "How do we make sure that she stays?"

"We don't," Clint chuckled darkly. "She's not the type to take orders readily. Thought you knew that better than any of us?"

"Why would I know that?"

Clint's face flushed for a second before all of the color in it washed away, the realization of what he had said hitting him square on. He had just broken a confidence...no, he had broken two simultaneously, and he suddenly feared for his own safety once this transgression could come to light. He wished that if nothing else, Nat would make his death merciful.

"Well, no use in hiding it now," Clint grumbled. "I'm not sure if this was ever going to come out or not, but Nat and Steve made a huge mistake swearing me to secrecy, obviously. Yeah, you two know each other very well."

"Spit it out, man."

"She...ugh, dammit," he paused, taking in a deep breath, hoping it wasn't his last, "she was going to be the next Winter Soldier, and you were the one supposed to make it happen."