Title: New Ends, New Beginnings
Summary: Elizabeth Banks was ordinary. The most exciting part about her life was her schooling in nursing. However, that changes when a man she saw on the news saves her. Along the way, she faces horrors beyond her imagination. Can she and this new man make it through? Or will they crash and burn? Bucky/OC
Rating by chapter: K+ (mild violence)
Disclaimer: I do not own ANYTHING. This includes Marvel comics and movies mentioned.
She could feel the headache coming on. The long line of people had finally disappeared, but the rush had left her feet aching and her mind spinning. She sighed and spun behind her, beginning to once again stalk the items that have decreased. Nearly everything was gone. There were only two medium cups left and the lids were nowhere in sight.
She sighed again, this time catching the attention of her coworker.
Her coworker smiled at her. "And we work because…?"
"Money." She replied back, smiling slightly.
"And we work at McDonald's because…?"
"Because college is expensive and I don't want to be paying my student loans off until I'm 77."
"Right in one, Liz." She said, pointing said medium cups at her. "Besides, at least you got good company."
Liz teasingly threw a lid at her. "What 'good' company are you talking about, Kelly?"
"Oh, shut up you." She replied with the same tone. She began to stalk the small coffee cups. "You know you love me."
Liz tilted her head, as if in thought. "Maybe. Maybe not."
"Just for that comment," Kelly said, gesturing towards the person walking in. "You can take the next order."
She groaned but made her way to the register, waiting impatiently for the person to come in. When he arrived at the front counter, she became nervous. She was a people person and often preferred taking the orders over making drinks, but the man in front of her gave her a horrible vibe. He was wearing a large hoodie that covered his face. His jeans were torn in a thousand and one places. He continued to stare at the menu above her.
Liz attempted to smile at him. He did nothing in response. She shifted awkwardly in place. She caught a glimpse of his eyes. He looked… confused?
"I know," she told him. "The menu is way too big and moves around too much." She made a show of pointing at the particular menu board that moved every ten seconds. "See, impossible to read."
He did nothing. He didn't even move.
Liz was honestly baffled and now very nervous. She was used to dealing with rude customers and loud kids, but never once did someone just not respond to her.
Liz looked behind her slightly. However, her hopes were dashed when she saw that kelly was nowhere in sight and every other coworker was busy with something else.
"So," She said, trying to keep her voice from shaking. "Whenever you're ready, just let me know." Not expecting a response, she turned around and grabbed the stack of trays that needed to be cleaned. Assuming that he was going to be another minute, she took a quick trip outside the front counter and restocked the straws. She continued to watch him. He still didn't moved.
Still nervous, she spun around too quickly and slammed into someone that was behind her, the straws flying everywhere. She was so shocked that she landed on her butt, her hands catching her fall.
Blinking, she looked up and spotted the person she had slammed into. Instantly, she knew she was in trouble. The man in front of her was around her age. However, one look at him screamed "not good guy". He had his hands balled into fists and looked angry enough to punch her.
"I'm so sorry!" She bursted out, scared of his reaction. She got up from the ground awkwardly, making sure to take a step away from him. "Are you alright?"
"No." He growled, his voice low. "My damn drink is all over the floor."
She looked down to see that his large soda, had indeed, fallen to the floor and was beginning to spill around his shoes. She now realized that her pants were wet at the bottom.
"I am so sorry!" She exclaimed. "I can get you another, no charge?"
She made her way to the back counter, but before she could get through the door, the man grabbed her arm in a harsh grip. Never before had someone manhandled her like that. At least not in a long time. Terror made her throat close up.
"You're not going anywhere, honey," The guy said, pushing her slightly, "until you clean up this mess."
She closed her eyes, readying herself. She was not weak. She would not let this jerk treat her like this.
"Let go of me." She demanded loudly, catching the attention of people around her.
"Excuse me?" The man growled, his tone of voice causing her to shake.
However, her voice didn't waver when she repeated the order.
She saw his right hand raise, its quick descend heading right for her face. No hope of stopping it, she closed her eyes, waiting for the pain.
It never came. His hand was suddenly whipped off her shoulder, causing her to stumble.
In front of her was the man in the large hoodie. He had the jerk suspended in the air by his throat. Without a hint of hesitation, the man threw the teen into the table behind her, the impact so hard that the table cracked.
His hood was thrown off in his haste and she caught a glimpse of blue eyes and long, brown hair before he ran out of the store.
Liz stood frozen, watching his retreating back fade off into the distance. Without thinking, she ran after him.
She had no idea what she was doing. Three things that have never happened to her before had occurred in the last ten minutes. 1) someone had touched her with the intent of hurting her, 2) a man had thrown another man so hard that he was still unconscious and 3) she was running away from her job and to someone she had never met in her life.
Somehow she had managed to continue on his trail. He was impossibly fast. The only way to follow him was to watch the traffic around him. Being on a busy street had, for once, helped her.
Eventually he turned into Central Park. To her horror, he was heading into the small, dark clearing where no one was in site. She was out of breath, her legs were killing her, and she had no idea where she was, but she continued to follow him.
She still had no idea why. The only thought in her head was to find him.
As she reached the forest she realized she now had no way to follow him. She slowed down, her breathing obnoxiously loud in the quiet clearing.
She jumped when she heard a stick snap to her right. In another second, a hand was around her throat.
It happened so fast that she didn't even have time to register that it had happened. Her breath was no longer coming out in deep, wheezing breaths. Her vision cleared. The stranger in front of her still had his hood up. She couldn't see his eyes.
"Why did you follow me?"
The sound of his voice brought her back to reality. She was in a forest, away from anyone, and his hand was resting - for now - lightly on her throat. She could be dead in the next second.
Tears sprung to her eyes. "I don't know!" She stuttered. "I-I-I wanted to t-thank you!"
The man studied her. She continued to take deep, agonizing breaths, still trembling.
"Go back." He said roughly, taking his hand away. He began to walk away.
She nodded to herself, taking the words into consideration. Hell, it sounded like a great idea. She began to turn, but the moment she turned her head, she caught the side of blood on his gray sweatshirt.
Her attitude changed in a moment. She was almost a nurse and she tended to have a different mind when it came to medical problems. Her heart slowed and the list of things to do was already building in her head. She couldn't let him leave with him hurt.
"Wait!" She called to his retreating back. "You're hurt!"
He didn't turn around. Actually, he pretended not to hear her. She bit her lip and ran to catch up with him.
"Please!" She called again. "At least let me help you. I'm a nurse!"
He stopped. It was so sudden that she nearly ran past him.
"Stop following me. Go back."
The words stopped her short. She was trying to help. Why was he running from her? What did he have to hide? It didn't matter. It was her duty as a nurse to help him. The least she could do was look at the cut.
"Listen," she said forcibly, her tone of voice instantly changing into her 'professional' tone. "It could become infected if it's as bad as I think it is. You could lose your arm if it's not treated properly."
He stood perfectly still, not reacting to her words at all.
A list of things ran through her head. She was required to take a brief psychology class for her nursing degree, and a number of things had been highlighted at his reactions, the loudest bring PTSD. He was silent, moody, and ready to run at any moment. Not only that, but he screamed 'dangerous' and that could mean he went through a lot to become that.
She took this into account and began to soften her voice. "I can treat you in my apartment. No one is there and you can leave as soon as I'm done. No one would know." She looked down awkwardly. "I owe you for saving me back there."
It took what felt like an eternity for him to response. The slight nod of his head was all she needed. She began to walk away, knowing he would follow.
Thankfully, she was only a block away from her apartment if they walked back to her job.
Holy crap, her job. She peaked inside. People were standing around in a circle, not doubt trying to help the jerk. The police were already there. She needed to go back and tell them she was alright. She didn't want anyone to begin looking for her.
"Listen," Liz said, addressing him. "I have to go back inside to tell the police that I'm okay. I don't want them to come looking for me. You think you can wait out here?"
He seemed to have not heard her. She shifted awkwardly in place once again and waited. Soon enough, her answer came in the form of him sitting on the park bench a foot ahead of him.
She nodded to herself and whispered an "alrighty then."
As soon as she walked in, it was madness. Her coworker Kelly ran to her, engulfing her in a hug. Surprised, she nearly fell, but someone else was already at her back, keeping her steady. It was a police officer.
"Oh my god, Liz!" Kelly said, still gripping her arms. "Are you alright? Why in God's name did you run after him?"
"I-I-" She was interrupted by the same police officer that held her steady.
"Mrs. Banks?" The officer asked, looking at her as if she wasn't worth his time.
She nodded, getting nervous again. She had never gotten pulled over, never mind actually being apart of a… what the heck did she call it? An… incident?
"I'd liked to ask you a few questions about what happened here."
She swallowed. "Okay."
"Could you please describe what happened here."
It was quick. She stood next to Kelly the entire time, who helped get her through the harder parts and even dramatically pointed to the jerk that left a rather large bruise on her arm. It got tricky when she describe what the man had done to him.
"He… picked him up and threw him into the table."
The police officer stared at her. "What?"
"Yeah!" Kelly said, nodding along with Liz. "The man just picked that jerk up by the throat and threw him into the table! It was nuts!"
"And you went after him?" He asked, looking at Liz.
Liz nodded, not really know what to say.
"Did you find him?"
"No." She lied, keeping the answer short and sweet. "I never caught up with him."
"Alright," The police officer said, clearly believing her lie. "We'll file a police report against the man who grabbed you. You may be called to court to testify. We'll keep in touch. Here." He handed her a card. It contained the man's name and number and his department.
"Thanks." She breathed, ready to bolt and help the stranger she had lied about.
She took a moment to reflect on that. Already, her life had taken a dramatic turn.
Liz turned towards Kelly. "I'm going home." She told her, feeling her heart beat in her chest. "Tell the managers."
"Of course!" Kelly said, looking concerned. "You want me to walk you home?"
Liz shook her head. "No, I'll be alright. Thank you though."
Kelly hugged her once again. She ran to the back to get her purse, gave a quick wave the manager, who seemed to understand that she was leaving, and left, catching up with the stranger on the park bench.
"Okay," She told him. "Let's get going."
He said nothing, he got up from his seat and continued to follow her.
He was quiet the entire time and his hood was back up, but he silently followed behind her.
Of course, she forgot her keys at work, but she, thankfully, still kept a key under a flower pot in front of her house. She grabbed it and opened the door, allowing him to go in first.
It was a small apartment in New York City. Granted, it wasn't the size of a closet, but it only held a kitchen/dining room area and a bedroom. The most expensive thing in the room was the small flat screen TV. But, at least it wasn't messy. The messiest part of the house was the bedroom and, thankfully, the door was closed.
She coughed awkwardly. "So, um…" He turned towards her, which caused her to blush even more. What the hell was she doing letting a complete stranger into her apartment? "The couch is free to use while I find some supplies." He didn't move. "Right. Um…" She moved to get her medical kit. While she moved to the bathroom, he glided to the couch and sat completely straight upon it, looking ready to bolt.
"Hey," She smiled awkwardly at him. If she was good at anything, it was bedside manner. "You can leave as soon as I make sure you're not bleeding to death. Sound like a plan?"
He nodded again. She took a deep breath and sat on the table across from him, her knees nearly touching his. "Okay, mind taking the sweatshirt off?"
She looked away slightly as she grabbed the alcoholic swabs. When she turned to look at him, he was in a black short sleeve shirt and - holy shit.
Holy shit. He had a metal arm. He had a metal arm. Her mouth fell open. This was the Winter Solider she had seen on the news three weeks ago. The man who had once been Captain America's best friend. Who attacked his best friend. Who was apart of Hydra.
She took a deep breath. This wasn't her. She wasn't one to freak out. She was calm. She knew how to handle any situation. She could keep a cool head. He was a normal patient. He had to be in order for her to treat him.
"Okay," She breathed. "Let's see that cut."
With the amount of blood she had spotted, she would have thought he need stitches. However, the cut didn't look that deep. If anything. It's length was scarier than its depth.
She reached out to touch his arm, but he flinched back, his eyes going wide.
"Sorry!" She said hastily. "I should have asked first."
He didn't say anything, only continued to stare at her.
"Umm…" She said, not knowing where to go from here. "Right, you don't trust me. Okay, uh, my name is Elizabeth Banks. Liz for short. And you are…?"
He shook his head, his eyebrows drawn together. "I don't remember."
Her heart stopped. Oh God, how could he not know his own name? What happened to him?
"But…" She glanced hopefully at him. He closed his eyes, as if in physical pain. "Bucky." He said eventually.
"Bucky." She said, testing the name out. If anything, she was expecting it to be James. That's the name she had heard in history class years ago.
"Well, Bucky," she said teasingly. "It's going to be hard to treat you if I can't touch you."
It took another eternity, but he nodded in acknowledgment.
She sighed in relief. "Alright, let's take a look at that cut." this time, he didn't move. However, he went tense. She pretended not to notice.
Her earlier observations were right. It was long, but it wasn't deep. Stitches wouldn't be required. She took the alcoholic swab and said "this might sting a little" Before going to work.
He didn't move. There was nothing to indicate that she was hurting him. She continued her work however. The blood was minimal at this point, so it was easy to clean.
"So, where are you heading?" She asked. She cursed herself. She really didn't want to ask any questions, but she was not one for silence when she was treating people. Usually her talking help calm both the patient and herself.
He tilted his head at her, as if he didn't understand the question. "I don't know."
Another stab to the heart. He didn't sound like a scary assassin ready to kill her. He sounded lost.
"Well, you had to of known where you were going when I was...chasing you."
He shook his head again. "Well, you must of been hungry…?" She picked up the gauze and began to wrap the arm. She looked back at him. His head was tilted again, staring at him in confusion.
"I can make you something?" She commented lightly, tapping the bandage up. She was done. "Before you go, I mean. I make a mean pasta sauce." She laughed lightly.
Her smile seemed to calm him, which shocked her. "Then I can leave?"
"Yeah!" She said enthusiastically. "I'm not keeping you here against your will, I promise. I just…" She got up from the couch and began to make the pasta. She was better at talking when she had something to do. "I owe you. That jerk really could have hurt me."
And with that, she made pasta for the Winter Soldier.
XxXxXxXxXxXxXx
A/N: I know, so boring. We're not even near the good stuff. However, at least the main character met Bucky, right? And we got some character understanding from Liz already, and you've got a hint of what Bucky was like after what happened in Washington. So, good, right? Some-what decent?
Yeah, I was kind of bored with writing this chapter, but sometimes chapter one is the most important. It'll get more exciting, I promise.
Thanks for the read! Review?