A/N- Hello! I've had this idea in my head ever since I saw The Winter Soldier. Please tell me how this is, as it's one of my first attempts at fan fiction. Please Read and Review, and thanks for checking this out! :)

-EmersedMouse

Prologue-

After dragging Captain America out of the Delaware, the Winter Soldier, or Bucky, as the captain had called him, had begun to regain some of his memories. They were usually faint, fleeting flashes, but he'd gathered enough to know that he was merely a tool.

Hydra had lied to him about everything. They only cared about him because he was their best weapon against their foes. He was literally created to kill. They had put him away in storage in a frozen capsule for nearly as long as Steve Rogers. Then, when they needed him, they pulled him out and programmed him to do their every want and whim, like a robot. The things they'd done to him and had made him do... He wasn't sure yet what fate's purpose was for him, but he knew one thing. He didn't want to live like that any more. He would be a loner, a vigilante, and do all that he could to make up for everything he had done. If branches of Hydra still existed, he would take them down as well.

Bucky had headed for New York after the helicarriers had been brought down. He had bought an over-sized brown leather jacket and a pair of gloves to hide his metal arm. The jacket seemed out of style in this day and age, but when he looked in the mirror, it seemed familiar, comforting. It reminded him of home, lost so many years ago.

New York was so confusing to him still. He hadn't thought much of it when on missions, but now after comparing the old version of it in his memories with the new one in front of him, he felt more lost than ever.

Bucky hadn't found a place to settle down yet. He knew he would have to get some sort of a job in order to eat. At Hydra, his meals were planned out and given to him when the handlers felt he needed it, not when he wanted, in order to help keep him in top physical condition. He was still getting used to the idea of being free, of being able to choose to do whatever he wanted, when he wanted. Not when his handlers told him to. This felt wonderful.

Several months later, Bucky had a job at a warehouse in the outskirts of the city. The pay wasn't great, but it would do to keep an apartment until he could get a place of his own. He found his job of hauling crates around easy, the hard part was not using his left arm too much and making it look like his strength was equal to that of the other workers.

His apartment was a few miles out of the city limits. The building was run-down, but tidy. The elderly woman who ran it, Mrs. Helden, seemed to think of him as a son. She would often clean his room and do his laundry without him asking. He knew she meant well, but to be honest, he found it awkward. Mrs. Helden would sometimes speak of her son who had died in Vietnam, and then say how much Bucky reminded her of him. Usually the next day he would find a plate of cookies on his table.

Bucky had saved a few people over the past few months. A robber had cornered a young mother and her son in an alley, and there had been a few street fights with civilians nearby. Bucky had quickly resolved the skirmishes. He was reluctant to do anything too serious, though, as it would attract unwanted attention. He had a feeling that Steve was still searching for him.

Bucky had considered several times about trying to contact him, but the guilt was too strong. Bucky had nearly killed Steve, who hadn't fought back because he didn't want to hurt his best friend. And if SHIELD was smart, they would probably try and have him killed for everything he had done over the years. Bucky was going to prove that while he had been a ruthless monster, he could change, just like anyone else.

He began to go out in the evenings, sticking especially to the outskirts of the city where crime was more likely to happen. He stopped a few muggings, and twice he caught half-drunken thieves trying to break into houses.

Whenever he got access to a computer, he would do all the research on Hydra that he could. it wasn't too hard, since Agent Romanov had released thousands of files onto the web. The government was still scrambling in an effort to hide all of the files from the general public. They hadn't made much progress. He found a few places in the U.S where small units of Hydra could be sheltered. Bucky made a mental note to investigate them as soon as he could.

Bucky woke one morning, planning to spend his day off hunting for crime. He headed outside and, once out of sight from the apartment, began to sprint, covering the ground between him and the city quickly. He paused along the waterfront and looked out across the murky bay. It was a foggy morning, and a fine mist was pelting softly down. It didn't look like the sun would be coming up anytime soon.

He stuck along the waterfront for a few minutes, deciding on a route to take through the backstreets. He turned to go, but a brilliant flash of golden light and a noise that resembled a sonic boom made him flinch. He spun around and peered at the sky through the rain, watching a lone shape hurtle downwards. The thing, whatever it was, hit the water with a giant splash.

Bucky watched as the thing floated to the top of the water and began to struggle to stay afloat. He heard a small cry, and that was enough for him to go rescue it. He kicked off his shoes and dove in. He swam through the water a bit slower than he should have, due to the weight of his metal arm. Good thing it was waterproof.

The creature was obviously human, and as he got closer he saw that it was a young girl. She looked at him with dark brown eyes that clearly said she wanted to fight him, but didn't have the strength.

"It's okay, I'm not going to hurt you," he promised. The girl studied his eyes closely, then nodded weakly.

Bucky wrapped his left arm around her and began to swim back, taking care to keep her head above water. The girl just clung onto his arm, showing no surprise that it was pure metal. They arrived back at the cement walk just as Bucky heard sirens. He set her up on the walk before climbing up himself. He pulled on his shoes and started to walk away, figuring the police would take care of her. The way she had gotten here wasn't natural, and he wanted no part in it.

"Wait, where are you going?" The girl spoke with an accent that Bucky had never heard.

"Away. Don't worry, the police will get you home."

"No!" Panic rose in the girl's voice, and Bucky turned to look at her.

"Why not?" He asked. He wondered if perhaps she had run away from her home. But that didn't explain the noise, light, and her apearing out of the clouds.

"I can't go back! Please, I don't want to hurt anyone else!" The girl shook violently. As if on it's own accord, one of her hands reached protectively for the gold and silver sword strapped to her back.

Now how did i miss that? Bucky wondered. The sword's hilt fit into her hand perfectly, as if it was made for her. It probably was, in fact.

"Why would you have to hurt anyone?" Bucky asked, fearing her answer.

The girl's eyes were full of anguish. "I can't help it! They control my mind when they give me an assignment."

"They control your mind?" Bucky had a strong hunch on who "they" were.

"Yes," the girl bit her lip. "That's why I left. They were going to do something even worse, but my magic came out and brought me here, I guess."

By now, Bucky could hear the thump of helicopter blades. Several boats were out on the water, looking for anything that could tell them about the light and noise. If they wanted to avoid the police, Bucky and the girl would have to move immediately. But Bucky had just one more question.

"Do you know the name of their group?" he asked.

The girl coughed up a little more salt water and got to her feet. "They called themselves Hydra."