A/N: Hello and welcome to part two of the Daphne/Bucky series. For those of you who haven't already done so, I would recommend you read the first book (We're All Stories In The End) before you read this, just so it makes more sense. For those of you returning, welcome back!

1 - Memories of Her

"Why is it that, wherever we go, we always end up on a freakin' roof?"

James and I were lying on a roof top next to each other, his metal hand gently grasping mine. We stared up at the night sky, like we had that day in D.C. that felt like a lifetime ago.

James chuckled beside me. "I suppose it's a subconscious choice. We were always most free when we were outside. And the only time we were ever outside-"

"Was when we were on missions," I said lowly. I sighed. "We're never going to be able to run away from this, are we?"

James shook his head. "No." He turned his head. "But we'll make it work, somehow."

"How are your memories doing?" I asked, wanting to change the subject.

He shrugged. "I've got a few back. There's a little girl who appears in a few - I don't know who she is, or what she's called, but I'm pretty sure she was important to me at one point."

"What happened to her?"

"I don't know," he admitted. "All I have are a few disjointed memories, and then suddenly she's gone."

"I'm sure you'll get them back."

"She's not the only one, though," James said, tucking my head under his chin. "There's another from the war days. I was sweet on her at the time." He chuckled. "She wouldn't have it, though. She was already taken. Still, I knew her for five years and I never once did I see the so-called man of her heart."

"What was her name?"

"Evie," he said with a small, nostalgic grin. I couldn't help but feel jealous of the probably long-dead woman. At least she had been able to know James while he was still the charming and roguish Bucky Barnes. "Though she hated being called that."

"Tell me about her," I requested softly.

He chuckled. "First time I met her, she'd just saved Steve from being beaten up. It was just for a minute, but I recognised her instantly when I saw her again. That kind of introduction tends to stick in the mind." His eyes became slightly glazed over. "She was a trainer for the Army," he said. "She was a... an unrelenting teacher, but she got results. And she knew how to have fun with the guys - she might as well have been one of them."

"I would have thought that a woman wouldn't have been allowed to train soldiers back then," I said, frowning slightly.

"Yeah, well, Evie wasn't exactly good at following orders. She did things her way, whether the higher-ups liked it or not." He chuckled. "One of the first team-building exercises she gave my group to do was to write a song."

"Write... a song?"

"Yeah," he said with a fond smile. "She said it was to help us form strong bonds, but it would also be useful if we ever need to find others in our platoon. Ours wasn't the first. During the time we were locked up with Hydra in Austria, there were men from fourteen of her groups who'd been transferred to the 107th after the war started. It confused the hell out of our guards when suddenly half a dozen or more guys would sing a song no one else knew." His face fell slightly. "Honestly, the knowledge that a lot of us had something in common helped us all through those days. We all owed her more than we ever said."

"I'm sure she knew," I murmured, smiling. She sounded like a decent girl, and so I was glad Bucky was able to be happy with her. It was a tough time back then. What confused me was the fact that she never showed up back in my old world. Not even a passing mention. Sure, those movies never said everything, but I would have thought this 'Evie' girl would get a part if she had been a romantic interest for Bucky.

James' voice broke me from my musing. "What about you? What about your memories?"

I sighed. "I had a lot less to remember," I muttered. "I've got nearly everything, I think. There are a few blank spots but most of it's there."

"What was it like? Your childhood."

I sighed. "Impossible," I answered honestly.

James frowned and rolled over so his body was turned completely towards me and he was propped up on his elbow. "Why impossible?"

I sighed before mirroring him and turning to face towards him. "Because my memories of my childhood include memories of things that haven't happened here yet."

"What do you-"

"Please," I interrupted. "I want to get this out all in one. I should have told you when we first met but I didn't for some reason. And then I was shoved into that machine and I forgot and..." I groaned, running a hand over my face. "My birthday is September 11th 1999. It was 2016 when I was shoved into Hydra's hands." I looked down, idly fiddling with a small stone that lay on the concrete roof. "Where I'm from, everything that exists in this world is just a story that a guy decided to sit down and write one day. When I left my home it was still incomplete. But... Jesus, James, I was watching a damned movie before I came here! I'm not actually convinced what I remember is real because it's impossible." I sighed and flopped back onto my back, staring up at the stars. "I was born in 1999, I have the body of a 27 year old but have been alive for 78 years. I have three ages, James. I'm simultaneously 15, 27 and 78. Like I said; impossible."

James stared at me for a long time, then the corner of his lip turned upwards. "And I thought my situation was weird," he said, lying on his back and gently tugging me against him. I allowed him to wrap his arm around my waist, placing my head over his heart. Sighing in contentment, I closed my eyes and focused on the steady beat of his heart.

"You're amazing, you know that?" I murmured, nuzzling deeper into his chest.

James' silent laugh vibrated through his chest. "I do now," he replied, and I could hear the smile in his voice.

"So, where exactly are we?" I asked.

James laughed again, this time audibly. "You know, I have no idea. Somewhere in Brooklyn."

I rolled my eyes. "Well, yeah, I could have told you that."

James shrugged. "It seemed like a good stopping point," he said defensively.

"Hey, relax," I said, smiling. "We've got time now, remember?"

He sighed. "I know. I still feel like someone's going to jump out at us at any moment, though."

"Well, Hydra's still out there," I murmured. "And you can bet they're gonna be looking for us."

James smiled. "I still can't believe you've gone with jackets, hats and sunglasses to keep them off our trail."

"Hey, first of all, that arm of yours sticks out like a sore thumb, so the jacket was a great idea. Second, hats are good for hiding your face."

"But you refuse to wear hats."

"Which is where the sunglasses come in handy." I sent him a smug look.

"Even though it's not really warm enough to be wearing them? And, for that matter, it's Brooklyn."

I snorted. "I come from England. I doubt it could be much worse."

"I guess we'll see about that," James murmured, before letting out a huff and sitting up, forcing me to do the same. "We should probably get some sleep," he said. "If Hydra's after us, and they get their hands on us again, I want to make the most of the time we're spending out of their hands."

"And that involves sleep?" I asked, raising an eyebrow, accepting the hand up he offered me.

"It was a luxury we didn't get very often," he reminded me. "We've spent God only knows how long in those infernal freeze machines. That is not a natural sleep."

"I never said it was," I muttered, before swinging down off the roof and landing comfortably on the ground two stories down. James landed a second later. We both started walking towards the motel where we'd 'booked' a room for the night (I'd distracted the guy behind the desk while James stole the door key), our minds easily recalling the route. Spending half a century tracking people gave one an exemplary sense of direction. "So where do you want to go tomorrow? Anywhere specific?"

"Uh, two places," James said, taking my hand. "The apartment complex where I used to live, and the school I went to."

I nodded. "Those sound like good options. Do you remember where they are?"

"Vaguely," he admitted. "I know where the school is because we passed it in the car earlier. The apartment block... well, I think we're gonna have to work with a few half-formed memories."

I shrugged. "It's a start," I murmured.

He chuckled, pulling me closer and wrapping an arm around my shoulders. He then placed a soft kiss on the crown of my head. "That's all anything is these days, Silver," he replied.

I was starting to get a bit worried. Not only because James had been staring at the school playground for the last fifteen minutes, but also because the kids in said playground had noticed us and were looking a bit frightened.

"James," I said, for something like the twentieth time. He finally blinked and looked at me. I smiled. "I know we're supposed to be getting you your memories back, but staring at the kids is not gonna help. You're scaring them."

James smiled wanly, then shook his head. "Sorry, I was kind of in a world of my own."

"I noticed, funnily enough."

Rolling his eyes, James pointed into a dark, empty corner of the playground. "That's where I met Steve for the first time," he said. "He was being beaten up."

"Something I understand was a common occurrence," I muttered, and James laughed.

"That kid never did know when to stand down."

"If he did, he would never have become Captain America," I pointed out. "Someone else would have gotten the job, and for all we know that could have been the difference between America being saved and America being blown up."

"Well, when you put it that way..."

I chuckled. "We done here?" I asked. "Because, not to sound impatient, we still have no idea where you used to live. It might take hours for us to find it."

"Or it might take minutes," he countered. James frowned, looked around him, and then started walking down the street to our left.

"Do you know where you're going, or are you just guessing?" I asked, catching up with him and sliding my fingers between his. James' hand squeezed mine gently.

"I'm following my instincts," he admitted. "It's-"

"A good place to start?" I finished with a grin.

James smirked. "Well, it's certainly not a bad place," he said, before stopping dead in his tracks. I followed his gaze to a little park, where a dozen or so children were laughing and running around. "I used to go there," James whispered, quietly enough that I barely caught it. "With that girl I told you about. She used to love going on the swings, and I always used to push her."

"Maybe she was your sister?" I suggested, thinking that was the sort of thing a brother would do for his sister.

James nodded absently. "I think you're right." He smiled. "Whenever she wanted to play on her own, or with her friends, I would always go and play football. I think it was just an excuse... I remember keeping an eye on her even from the field."

I chuckled. "Sounds like you were a damned good brother."

"If that's even what we were," he said, frowning. "I'm still not certain. I think- Daphne, where are you going?!"

I'd stopped listening, running forward with my full strength. When he started talking about playing football, I'd turned my gaze to the field to see there was a game currently being played. When the ball was kicked too hard, a little boy who couldn't be any older than five started chasing after it. Instinct pushed me into movement, and I watched with wide eyes as the ball bounced into the road. The boy followed.

I reached him and scooped him up into my arms before pushing off the ground, rolling over the roof of the car that was only a few feet away from hitting the boy. The boy started crying when I stopped on the other side of the road, and I saw him reaching towards the now flattened football.

I almost laughed. It was further proof of the child's ignorance when he didn't even notice that, if I hadn't reached him in time, he would have ended up the in the same state as the ball.

A small crowd had gathered around us, but I ignored them. I looked down at the little boy, smiling as I wiped his tears away.

"You shouldn't run into the road without looking, sweetheart," I told him, and his teary, brown eyes looked up at me. His bottom lips wobbled. I smiled and patted his head. "Are you okay? Did you get hurt?"

He shook his head. "Th-th-that's m-my brother's ball," he stuttered around his tears. "It was h-his best."

I chuckled. "I think your brother would rather lose his favourite ball than lose his little brother, don't you?"

"But I'm not lost," the boy said, frowning in confusion, then sniffling again.

I chuckled. "Not anymore," I murmured, before picking him up. He instinctively wrapped his arms around my neck, and I turned to see the crowd around us had gone from just a few people to several dozen in just the space of a few seconds. I blinked when there was a bright flash in front of me. I glared at the photographer, who shrank back slightly. I rolled my eyes. "Okay, guys, this isn't a circus. Everything's fine, go back to whatever it was you were doing before." Slowly, the crowd dispersed, giving me the opportunity to cross back over the road. The group of boys (and two girls) who'd been playing football were stood waiting for us. One of them, with the same dusty blonde hair as the boy I held in my arms, ran forward.

"Mikey, are you alright?" he asked as I put the younger boy down.

Mikey nodded, chewing his lip. "I'm sorry I broke your ball," he murmured.

The older boy rolled his eyes. "It's just a ball, Mikey. It's okay." He turned to me, looking up at me with bright eyes and a wide grin. "Thank you for saving my brother, lady."

I chuckled. "No problem," I told him, ruffling his hair. "But next time don't play so close to the road, okay?"

He nodded, took Mikey's hand, and then he and the rest of his friends ran off.

I watched them for a few seconds, before glancing to my right as I felt James come to stand beside me. He was watching the boys as well. "You saved him," he murmured.

I chuckled. "Well done for pointing out the obvious."

James frowned. "No, I mean... Despite everything we've been through, your first instinct was to put your own life in danger in order to protect his. I never got that instinct. The closest I got was the instinct to save you. But even then rationality stopped me from doing so, because I knew you'd be fine."

I shrugged. "I remember more of my past," I said. "Maybe that's changed my perspective on things."

"Or maybe I'm more of a monster than you are," James said with a hollow voice.

I shook my head, turning his face towards mine with both of my hands on his cheeks. "You are not a monster, James. You might not have had that instinct like I did, but the fact you regret that you did nothing proves you're still human. And hey, who else went to save that kid? No one. It was just me. I'm pretty sure everyone else around here is your bog-standard human civilian. You're no worse than them."

James frowned. "I don't know if that makes me feel better or worse," he muttered, "since you just compared me to an average human being. On the one hand, being normal is something I kind of want, on the other hand, normal is a bit of a downgrade from where I am now."

I rolled my eyes. "Why do you always have to overcomplicate things?" I asked.

James sent me a crooked grin. "Because I know you can keep up," he said, before ducking down and planting a swift peck on my lips. "On the plus side," he added, "I remember where to go to get to my old house."

"Well, let's go then."

"What about your new fans?" James asked, and I glanced past him to see there were now several more photographers pointing their cameras at us.

"Do you think they're photographing us because of what I just did, or because they know exactly who we are?"

"Probably a bit of both."

I shrugged. "Either way, I plan to just ignore them. As far as they're aware, we're not even armed."

James snorted. "I doubt they're that stupid, Daphne."

I chuckled. "Some of them might be." I grabbed his hand. "Well, are we going or what?"