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Character: James "Bucky" Barnes &
Time period: Post-CA: TWS
Warnings: Obsessive Bucky on the loose.

At first, independence had seemed like one of his better ideas, but he had begun to revise his opinion once he had verified certain truths, taken noted of the factions searching for him, and realizing that the world was a wide landscape where a man could get lost. After he had rearmed himself from the bodies of two Hydra agents, a drug dealer, and a gang banger, he had come to realize that slipping away, hiding, being nothing at all was very easy, too easy.

He had been built on the foundation of a command structure for more than seventy years. Even before the blurred vagueness of falling, he knew order and military command. Aside from mashed up images, feelings and impressions, he knew that he had to have some manner of structure in his life. With no more commands down the line, he loitered, slipping through the shadows on Washington for awhile, finding the unsavoury places and people, leaving a few bodies in his wake and not particularly caring that they were found and televised either. A weapon bared he moved through the chaos at first because it was all he knew, listless for anything but the violence he had played a role in for so long. It lost it's purpose without the trigger of structure.

His world stagnated as he avoided those who hunted him, and he cared little for the lives he took when they found him. They came to command him because they thought he would simply bow to old standards, that he would go back to being his code name if they applied even electricity to his brain. They hadn't earned the right to command him. They were weaker than he, hadn't even survived a single encounter when he decided to throw his weight back at them. They were weak men, lost in words and hiding behind guns and dying in the shadows of buildings and trees.

Slowly, resolution began to form from the ashes of his lost command structure. He decided he would allow himself to be commanded again, that he yearned to be commanded by someone with the strength of both character and body to overtake him or at least bow him slightly with respect. Pierce had been like that, he reflected. The man hadn't needed to physically harm him to command his respect, though he remembered well being struck when he required the prompt. A few others had commanded a similar reaction deep in his guts, and his attention snapped over to them. One at a time, he decided. One searched, the other could be found if he looked.

He had been lost for a few months, considering leaving to go to Brooklyn for more pieces of an old puzzle, but he was drawn back into Washington because beating information out of a SHIELD agent had satisfied him that he would get what he wanted. As a ghost story, he knew that the only way to get proper attention was to do something not only obvious but dramatic. His depth of dramatic no doubt would be very different from others that he knew existed, but like a well-trained dog returning to his master, he knew how to get the attention that was needed to invite a recall command.

Hydra agents were not easy to find in large quantities in Washington anymore, most arrested or underground and hiding. It took him two days to find a nest of the vipers, using the old underground tunnels that he knew well. He'd ended them to prove he might not be under command, but it was something worth earning given his skills. Their bodies were left in obvious Hydra uniforms and symbols and piled high in front of the Smithsonian. As if the symbol of his loyalty degradation wasn't enough, none of the corpses had heads, and he had piled them in such a way that he could sit atop the whole mess and lounge there as obvious as the start of a new day.

Media and police were one thing, not that interesting, but he let them think they had command of him for a moment. Let them show his face around for SHIELD and Hydra and them to know he was here. Meaningless orders were ignored, people's reactions only earned a turning of his cheek in dismissal before he knew that the police presence would be a problem to slip away from. Instead he slipped from his lounging perch to ignore warnings and breaking into the Smithsonian because it suited him there. It seemed a fitting place to bow to the command of someone worthy.

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She took a deep breath and pushed whatever that moment had been to the back of her mind, locking it away in a certain part and special part of her mind designed for that to never ponder on it again, they really were not in a situation in which she could waste time thinking about that and maybe it was better this way. Feeling somehow back to her usual self, or as usual as it could be considered in this situation, she stepped inside firmly leaving that moment behind and focusing on more pressing matters.

Though she nearly froze again when he mentioned the milk, mostly because she wasn’t sure if there was, but then maybe if Natasha had been here then she could have been magnanimous enough to leave something, oh God, please let it be so. “Hmm, I will check.”

With rather measured steps she moved to the kitchen, still maintaining her calmness despite that the place had more than enough things Bucky could use as a weapon and opened the fridge, they really needed to turn on the lights or something, and was thankful to notice that Natasha had indeed left something (mostly those tv dinners and hot pockets but beggars couldn’t be choosers) with a sigh she took the milk cartoon, checked the date and then placed it on the counter. “Use a glass.”

He followed her into the house, keeping a respectable distance between them as she made her way calmly into the kitchen. He narrowed his eyes at the brief flash of tension across her body at the mention of milk, and he wondered about it. Did she have a think against milk, or did she know the reference better than he did? He wouldn't be put out if there was none, just that he couldn't remember the last time that he had some and thought it worth his while to taste it again.

He stepped into the kitchen and watched her look in the fridge, pausing himself long enough to flick on the lights to illuminate the place. He stepped around the fridge door to peer into the area, not finding anything interesting even as he reached out and took the milk carton. He looked it over, finding it cool in his hands and then eased away from her like ghost to go in search of a glass. "Do you want some?"

He opened a few cupboards until he found the one that held drinking glasses and took one down. He opened the new carton and poured himself milk until it was brimming full, narrowing his eyes at the sheer amount. It was bigger than even the protein-rich shakes he normally drank. Probably too much.

When he moved to close to her, luckily enough, she didn’t reacted like she had done the first time it had happened –which had involved nearly smashing his head with her fist, besides they had breached whatever codes there was about personal space with that little number they had back there with that dancing deal and she just allowed it, it’s not as if he didn’t stayed long enough for his presence to matter that much in her personal space and once he was gone she focused once again on the contents of the fridge.

It’s not as if she was hungry, she had just used it an excuse, but then maybe she was hungry but she wanted something sweet –which was her won’t do when she was stressed, but it didn’t seem as if there was anything and no…wait…yes she was definitely going to kiss Natasha or something the next time she saw her, now she had no doubt Natasha could foresee nearly everything or she already knew how frustrating her situation was going to be, but whatever the case bless her for leaving her a slice, still carefully stashed in the plastic container of whatever bakery Nat had gone, of what she thought was devil’s food cake, yes bless Natasha.

“Ah yes sure.” That was probably going to help with the cake, with her little treasure found and safely in her hand, she finally stopped her search and closed the door only to stop and look at him and the huge glass of milk. “…Are you seriously going to drink all of that?” But then again maybe he was used consuming this much now, she eyed the glass before moving to one of the drawers and search for a fork. “If you are, try to pace yourself when you do.”

He paused in examining his milk to glance over to her rooting in the fridge, watching as she emerged with something that clearly interested her. He quickly went back to his own choice and nodded when she agreed to having some as well. He reached up to get another glass and set it on the counter, using his own to pour off some for her. It wasn't as if he had drank any, and it seemed she disapproved of how much he had given himself. No matter, it wasn't like he drank much of anything but what was handed to him. Even now, he tended to ignore food until he absolutely had to have something.

He put the milk carton back into the fridge before he picked up the two glasses - his still obviously bigger - and turned to regard her. "Your concern is noted, but this isn't even thick enough to be concerned about," he replied. Hydra provided protein rich meals in liquid form after all. He was used to being ordered to drink.

Her search for a fork was done quicker than expected, considering she was more familiar with the place and where everything was, there was a small hum at his comment and turned to look at him. “If you say so, then I guess you will know better, right?” Maybe she should stop worrying so much about little things, she didn’t know if that bothered him and there was the fact he was probably able to handle mostly everything since he will know his limits. “Hmm thank you.”

Rather carefully she took her own glass of milk and moved out of the kitchen, she wasn’t sure if he was going to stay there and follow her but it was clear he could do as he wished at the moment, and moved into the living room, fumbling a bit to turn on the lights, and settled down on the couch. She set her glass on the coffee table, over what looked like an old magazine, and worked on having her pathetic excuse for a dinner and well she really couldn’t help the small sound of pleasure when she had her first bite, God, this was what she had needed right now.

He drank most of his meals, so he didn't find that this one would be much of a problem. He handed her the glass that he had poured for her and watched as she tottered off to another room, clearly leaving him to his own devices. He remained in the kitchen rather than follow her, loitering around near the fridge before he simply seated himself on the floor and leaned against the cupboards. It was quiet here, his glass of milk set on a knee and looking around.

It was strange to like this place over the others. Was it because of the past he couldn't remember? He didn't know, but it was cool and quiet, and he quickly drank his glass of milk and found the whole thing very novel. It tasted like something other than what he would have expected his own vomit to taste like. It wasn't sweet or sour or acidic. It just was something cool and nice, and he almost regretted drinking it quickly. He also noted that it didn't satisfy him as much as the other drinks he was given.

Was this a normal life? Sitting around drinking milk, having no mission and just following around the one person that seemed to tolerate him. He figured it was better than his old life. This one had stuff he could drink when he wanted after all and not just drinking out of public fountains or puddles.

When he didn’t followed she didn’t thought anything of it, they were not going to spend all their time together and they needed the space after all, it was also good for him to get used to being apart from her in case anything happened and not grow to dependant of her presence or whatever she was representing to him right now, he needed to be his own person without having to follow anyone and she was going to call Sam to see how she could accomplish that, she wasn’t knowledgeable enough to do it herself.

There was also the fact she will need to think what to tell to Natasha about not picking the most logical choice by her perception, but she really couldn’t do that to Bucky and the idea of it just made her stomach churn and she suddenly felt sick, sick of the image of leading him to a trap and then watching as he was subdued and put in a cage or whatever Tony had created…just the thought of that made her shudder and whatever hunger she had left her.

She just finished what she had taken, mostly to try to avoid any questions if Bucky decided to ask her if she returned those back kind of untouched, but then when she walked back to the kitchen in a rather somber and quiet mood it was probably going to draw his attention, hence the reason she moved quickly there, washing the glass and the fork she had used, then throwing away the package the cake came in and moving back out. “I’m going to try to sleep, we will talk about what we will do tomorrow.”

He would follow her regardless of what she thought of his previous declaration in the Smithsonian. Right now, his entire world was made up of her, and while it might fade in time as he got used to the whole thing, he would follow her, even if it was right into a trap. He would walk wearily into it, but at her word, he would step inside and no doubt let the cage door slam shut behind him. How long he stayed there was another matter entirely. Almost anything was a weapon in his hands, locks, computer or otherwise were not an issue for him. Eventually, he would escape.

Yet, this life sitting on the kitchen floor, his legs spread out before him, looking at his own toes was a strange one. He turned his head slightly at the sound of her footsteps coming back to the kitchen, though he made no move to get up to greet her. He remained on the floor and watched her, easily noting her mood and the hurried pace she went from the kitchen door to the sink.

"Is something the matter?" He shrugged at the idea that she needed sleep, and he wasn't about to go off and find some himself right now. He was wide awake, and he thought guarding over her was more important. "Sleep well then."

She stopped when she heard his question and briefly turned to look at him. “No, just…tired I guess, it was quite an active day.” And it wasn’t exactly a lie was it, this day had been long and with so many turns that had now effectively changed her life for the foreseeable future. “Yes thank you, try to get some sleep as well; if something happens or you need anything, you know where I am.”

Not that she thought he was going to bother her unless it was truly important or they were in danger, which she might be able to sense, as it was it would have been wiser to stay close in case they needed to bolt and escape as soon as possible, but she concluded they were safe enough as it was and she could dare doing this for the moment. They will need to have a long talk about their plans and they both needed to have a clear head for it, which being away from each other might help a bit.

She let herself fall into the bed and just laid there, not feeling exactly sleepy, she felt tired but not the kind of tired that needed sleep to get rid of it, she turned to lie on her side and stared at the wall, taking deep breaths and calming herself, sometime between the breathing and thinking some of the stories her mother used to tell her when she was younger and sick, she fell into a light sleep.

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