Bucky lowered his head and closed his eyes as Steve sat down in front of him. He heard Steve sigh, then place a file on the table with a thud. A deep wave of humiliation spread over him, causing an uncomfortable heat to crawl up his neck.

"It's not good, Buck," Steve said softly "Not good at all."

Bucky placed his hands on the table in front of him, his hand cuffs clattering loudly against the table. He looked up at Steve, and almost shuddered. His friend, who was usually filled with hope and passion, seemed to have lost all his gusto. Steve's usually bright eyes glittered dully and told Bucky one thing: Things were going to get difficult.

"The list of charges goes on and on," Steve explained, his voice barely audible "There are multiple charges of murder, conspiracy, attempted murder, theft . . . You get what I mean."

"I want to see the descriptions of all the charges."

"I don't think—"

"Let me see!"

Steve slowly slid the file over to Bucky, who shifted his hands so he would be able to pick up the file. It was difficult, maneuvering his hands in the hand cuffs, but he would have to make it work. Of course, he had the ability to snap them off of him without a moment's hesitation, but he knew better. Everything was looking horrid for him, and he knew he had to be as peaceful as possible.

As he opened the file, his heart started hammering in his chest, and his ears started ringing. He swallowed even though his mouth felt as dry as a desert. The first count of murder caught his eye. It was for Howard Stark. He slammed the file shut and pushed it back to Steve.

"I remember."

"Tony's pressing charges. I don't believe he'll drop them at any point. His mind is set on this . . . I tried to talk to him but— That doesn't matter. What we need to work on is building a case in your favor, one that'll convince a jury to let you go."

"I may be crazy, Steve, but I'm not stupid . . . Look at this. I don't have a chance of ever getting my name cleared."

"Don't say that. We'll figure this out."

"Has the state assigned me a lawyer?"

It had been years and years since Bucky lived as a normal citizen in America, but he faintly remembered some of their rules regarding criminal procedures. If the defendant did not hire their own lawyer, they would be assigned one from the state. Bucky knew he couldn't hire a lawyer, mainly because he had no access to money and highly doubted any lawyer in their right mind would defend him.

"They did," Steve murmured slowly.

"Where is he?"

"He quit."

"What?"

"He didn't want to take your case, so he quit."

"But why?"

"I don't know."

Bucky knew Steve knew why the lawyer quit . . . His friend just did not have the heart to tell him that. It was a sweet gesture, but Bucky needed to stay grounded in reality. He knew he needed a lawyer as quickly as possible because Tony was chasing their tails, trying to get this case to court as soon as possible.

"We should hire a lawyer, Bucky. We need to get someone good, someone better than the state provided ones."

"No one is crazy enough to take this on, Steve. It's useless. We need to—"

"I heard of a girl, one who I bet will help us, even if it is just to give us some advice."

Bucky sighed.

"Who?"

xxxxxxxxxxx

"Rise and shine, sleepyhead!"

"Mom, no!"

Rebecca Lee smiled to herself, and leaned over to prod her daughter out of bed.

Like any normal nine year old, Rebecca's daughter, June, didn't want to get out of bed to go to school. After all, school wasn't nearly as exciting as June would like it to be. She hated listening to teachers drone on and on about things she already knew a lot about.

Biology?

Piece of cake.

She'd already read everything she could get her hand son concerning that, and not just biology. Any type of science, June loved . . . She wanted to learn it all and know everything there was about the world.

"Come on, sweetie. You're going to be late."

June sighed and rolled out of bed. After rubbing her eyes, she quietly padded towards the bathroom in order to brush her teeth. Rebecca shook her head and suppressed another smile. June should be fine now. She proceeded into the small kitchen of their apartment, and took the whistling kettle off the stove. Pouring the steaming water over a tea bag, she turned off the stove and then poured another cup for June. As the tea soaked into the hot water, she pulled the milk out of the fridge and the sugar out of the cupboard. Then, she put to pieces of bread in the toaster.

June shuffled into the kitchen, a book under her arm. She sat down at a bar stool and opened it in.

"What's that?" Rebecca asked, walking over with a cup of tea.

She placed it in front of June as June lifted the cover of the book for her mother to see.

"Clockwork Orange? Don't you think you're a little bit young to be reading that?"

"You tell me about your cases and all the scum bags you deal with all the time. I think I can handle that."

Rebecca raised an eyebrow and tried to keep a firm face, but a slow smile crept across her face. She shook her head and took a sip of her tea. When the toaster finished toasting the bread, Rebecca out the two slices on a napkin and handed it to her daughter. June smiled gratefully. Rebecca glanced up at the clock hanging over the door to the kitchen and gasped.

"Honey, I'm running super late. I've got to go!"

Rebecca silently thanked herself for getting up early and getting dressed. She grabbed her jacket, which was hanging over one of the barstools. She then kissed June on the head.

"Your lunch is in the fridge—And straight home after school. Love you!"

With that, she darted towards the door, grabbing her messenger on the way back.

Being a lawyer, she had a very busy schedule, which required her to work long hours. Sometimes, it really bugged her, especially since that was time where she was not able to spend time with June, but it had to be done. Rebecca did like her job though. As a defense lawyer, she enjoyed delving into people's stories, analyzing what happened and finding out the truth. Although these people were often guilty, many of them were innocent, misunderstood and taken advantage of. Rebecca believed that people get used to a certain perspective and had trouble changing the filter that showed them their reality. Sometimes, the filter the saw life through was the wrong one.

One thing Rebecca always made sure of was that she never took people who could pay their way out of their situation. Rich clientes were snobby and got their way almost always in a court of law. It was the underdogs, the people who were seen as disgusting and vile that she worked for. Of course, she got paid, usually by a relative. She had managed to build a business, and at the age of thirty, she was successful.

When she reached her office, she let out a deep breath, thankful that she had made it before her 8 AM deadline. She plunked down on her chair, and pulled it towards her desk. After situating herself, she pulled open her laptop in order to read all the emails she got over the night. Right now, she was between clients and several requests were coming in. Normally, she would only work on one or two cases at a time because she wanted to put her full focus on getting her clients out of their charges. Sadly, that meant she would have to turn down some people. She brushed a strand of black hair out of her eyes, and closed her brown eyes for a split second, trying to pour her energy and concentration in all the information she was about to read.

She compared cases for an hour, reading up on the various alleged crimes. When she was reading a file on a shooting in Manhattan, she heard a knock on her door. She sighed and closed the file, placing it in her drawer. A quick glance at her planner indicated that she did not have an appointment or meeting for several hours.

"Come in," she called tiredly, sitting up straight.

"Hello?"

A tall figure appeared in the door way, walking into her office briskly. Rebecca stood up and offered the man a hand, which he shook readily. She flinched a bit for his grip was extremely tight. Besides being tall, he had a lot of shocking features. His blue eyes glittered excitedly, and his face seemed so similar to the many faces that had walked into her office before . . . Tired ones, ones that felt like they had nowhere else to go. Under the façade of pretty blue eyes and thick brownish-blonde hair was someone who had a big problem, one that seemed unsolvable.

"I'm Rebecca Lee," she said, sitting back down.

She gestured to a seat across from her desk, which he sat down in quickly.

"I don't believe we had an appointment," she said "What can I help you with?"

The man sighed and rubbed his jaw as if he was in deep thought. His eyes gazed down at a pencil on her desk. He licked his lips nervously, then looked back up at her.

"My name is Steve Rogers and my friend needs a lawyer."

Hey Everyone!

Yes! I am starting another fanfiction. I am very excited about where this story is going and I hope you all enjoy it. Just so everyone knows, this story takes place after Captain America: Civil War. It might get a little AUish at some points, but most of the events of Civil War will stay the same.

Please follow/favorite/review! Those three things mean the world to me!

Much Love,

gotmoreissuesthanvogue