I had barely looked back as Steve and I ran for the plane, that is, until a massive barrier was blocking the way. But it had lifted, and I saw the girl they called Wanda moving it, saving us. Not the first time either. She had also thrown the man dressed in all black off me before he could rip out my throat.

I didn't think about her, or any of them, again until Steve said he was going to leave our safe haven with T'Challa-ironically, the man who had tried to rip my throat out-to save her, Sam Scott, and Clint from the Raft. They had saved us; now we owed them.

"Don't do anything stupid while I'm gone," he tells me. "You made a promise."

We had been arguing about me going back under cryostasis since we got here. I thought it would protect everyone until someone discovered a way to deprogram me; Steve swore there had to be another way. T'Challa, when pushed for his opinion, refused to side with either of us. All he said was, "I would not make that decision in haste."

Steve is gone for far less time than I had anticipated. The guys don't look too worse for wear, just thinner and exhausted. But her…she's a shell of the person I remember. She's almost skeletal, and I can see scars from what I know was a straightjacket where her shirt slides off her shoulder. She looks beyond exhausted, almost like a zombie. Worse, she looks terrified, haunted. The way she hides her hands in her armpits strikes me, similar to how I hide my silver arm. I hadn't realized I did it until Steve pointed it out. I wonder if she knows.

T'Challa steps into the room. "Welcome all. You may stay here for as long as necessary."

He shows them to their rooms. Everyone except her meets back in the main room.

"She hasn't spoken since we were captured," Clint says, rage seeping into his voice. "They forced her to stay in that straightjacket! They threw her food on the floor! They forced her to eat like a dog! They-" His voice breaks off, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. "We thought she might be dead! I thought she was dead, until she started fighting Steve and me when we tried to free her."

Sam puts his hand on Clint's shoulder. "Things were bad; let's leave it there. The guards-" He shakes his head. "If I ever see Tony Stark again, I'm going to rip him apart."

"She's just a kid!" Clint says, his voice shaking. "They broke her!"

Scott nods emphatically, clearly agreeing with them.

I feel a tug in my chest, a sorrow I didn't know I was capable of feeling. She was another one of HYDRA's experiments, like me. Knowing what they did to me…I can imagine what they did to her. Suddenly, I'm angry too. She didn't deserve to be thrown in a cage and locked into her own body like a monster.

Steve breaks the tension. "I think what you all need are hot showers, good food, and proper beds. Let's go."

She won't leave her room. Clint, who had spent the better part of an hour trying to convince her, finally gives up. "She'll rest tonight and want to eat tomorrow."

The others agree. I'm less sure.

I'm right. Nobody can convince her to come out of her room. She won't talk either. Even Clint, who I learn was instrumental in bringing her into the Avengers, can't bring her out. He's visibly upset about it too.

My room is attached to hers; even with the soundproofing, I can still hear her screaming. I know better than to go in; she barely knows me and she might hurt herself trying to protect herself. I do hear her shower running a few times, for hours at a time. I have a feeling she's trying to scrub all the bad memories away. I had done the same thing.

I find her once, accidentally, in the kitchen during one of my sleepless walks around the compound. She turns quickly when I enter, gasping.

"I'm not going to hurt you!" I say quickly, but I think she's more afraid of her energy than of me. She'd formed it and dropped it quickly, a look of terror on her face. "I only came in for some hot chocolate. Do you like hot chocolate?"

She eyes me warily, her face ghostly in the light of the fridge. She's thinner than she was when I last saw her, if that's even possible, her scars clearly visible. She nods.

"Would you like some?"

She nods again.

I turn to make my preparations and hear her unwrapping some of the dinner leftovers. She eats slowly, her eyes on me. I can't say I blame her for not trusting me. I don't think she even trusts herself, judging from her reaction to her power.

"They're really worried about you," I say as I heat the milk. "Clint especially. Not being able to help you is driving him crazy."

There's the slightest change on her face, a hint of sadness.

"They really care for you. They consider you family. They don't want to hurt you. Even T'Challa decided to risk himself to keep us safe." I put the cup in front of her. "I'm the last person to tell you how to live your life, but you may want to consider what I said."

The muscles in her throat work furiously, so I pause, knowing she's about to say something. "Thank you." Her voice is cracking, barely above a whisper. The first time she's spoken in months.

"You're welcome." And I leave her be.

She comes to dinner the next night. I can tell Steve wants to make a big deal of it, but I touch his shoulder, shaking my head. They talk as they usually would, addressing a few comments to her, but she stays quiet. Her eyes scan the table, but they mostly stay on me, like I'm a puzzle she's trying to solve.

"Did something happen?" Clint asks after she's gone. "Did something change?"

I hug our conversation to myself; I don't want the others to find out that I, of all people, may have been the one to get through to her.

"I don't know, but I won't complain," Sam says. "Did you see how surprised she was that we had already set her a place at the table?"

"Happy surprised, I think," Scott says. "It was a good idea, Clint."

She joins us for dinner almost every night, then starts coming for breakfast too. She still doesn't speak, but she does acknowledge us with nods and head shakes. She's not skeletal anymore either.

Once they stop worrying about her, I bring up the topic that's been worrying me. "Steve, I think it's time to discuss me going under cryostasis again."

His upbeat mood instantly vanishes. "Bucky, I really don't think that's the best way."

"I can't risk hurting all of you again," I argue. "Can anyone really say no to being protected?"

"No."

Everyone freezes, heads spinning in the direction of the voice. She meets my eyes, clearing her throat and repeating, "No."

I remember that this is the first time they've heard her speak since their internment. Scott recovers first. "You don't want him to go into cryostasis?"

"No."

Of all people, I was not expecting her to have an opinion. Her eyes bore into mine, a determination there I haven't seen since the war.

Steve suddenly gasps, his eyes traveling between us. "I have an idea!"

"No," I reply.

"You haven't heard it yet."

My chest is starting to get tight. "I know what it is. No."

"Wanda could deprogram you with her telepathy!" He looks excitedly at her. "Right?"

She clears her throat again, her eyes still on mine. "It is possible."

Panic is tightening my chest even more. "I'm not letting anyone else mess with my head!"

He opens his mouth to argue, but she holds up her hand, clearing her throat one more time. I can't imagine not talking for as long as she did. "You cannot ask him to trust me so quickly. He barely knows me. Like cryostasis, this decision is not one to be taken lightly."

I feel a surge of gratitude towards her. Steve storms out of the room, with Sam behind him. When we're alone, she looks at me. "We have not formally introduced ourselves. I am Wanda."

I'm thrown by her change in subject. "I'm Bucky."

"Bucky," she repeats, holding out her hand for me to shake. I decide I like her accent.

Her hand is soft and cool, the handshake firm. She still doesn't smile, but I'm not one for smiling either.

"The captain is being overeager because he is afraid of losing his best friend," she says.

"Is that what your mindreading tells you?"

She seems unaffected by the biting sarcasm. "I do not enter my friends' minds without their permission. However, I do not need 'mindreading' to know that he cares for you. You saved each other's lives, yes? You have been friends for a long time?"

"Yes."

"I am the last person to tell you how to live your life. If you want my help, you will ask for it."

Hearing my words from her lips shocks me momentarily. So she was listening. "Thank you."

She nods, leaving me alone.

The subject isn't brought up again. When Steve tries to broach it, Wanda or Sam stops him. She is quickly becoming my strongest advocate. While I can defend myself, I appreciate the firm pushback against Steve.

I wonder for the hundredth time what she saw in me worth defending as I watch her form energy in her hands. It climbs her arms and she quickly drops it like a hot pan.

"Why do you refuse to use it?" I ask.

I brace for her startled attack, but she doesn't turn. "I had wondered if you were going to speak. You have been watching for two weeks."

"You're afraid of your own power."

Her cheeks flush. "I killed eleven people with it."

"At least you know how many people you killed."

"That was not your fault. You were programmed-"

I cut her off. "And the people in Lagos were yours?"

"Yes. I lost control of my power."

"How do you propose to help me if you're afraid of not being able to control your own power?"

My sarcasm still doesn't faze her. "I trust and control my telepathy."

I look at her for a long time, but she never drops my gaze. "Will it hurt?"

"Going into your mind will not; however, I cannot promise that sifting through your memories will not be painful."

I appreciate her honesty. "And you'll stop if I tell you to?"

"Of course. At the first place where you tell me, or I feel it is unwise to continue, I will stop."

"Okay."

Steve is happy; I'm apprehensive. Wanda decides to have our first session in a shaded grotto. "I thought you would be most comfortable here."

The others are too far away. "Don't you want to be somewhere more secure?"

"I am not afraid of you."

"The others are." The words are out before I can stop them.

"Does that bother you?"

"Does it bother you that they're scared of you?"

Her face is thoughtful. "Were I in their place, I believe I would feel the same."

Me too. I lean back against the mossy rock, trying to make myself comfortable. She waits patiently, kneeling in front of me. "May I touch you?"

I nod, closing my eyes. Her hand is cool against my warm temple. "You have many conflicting emotions. You are happy to be here because you do not have to worry about the others hearing you vulnerable, but you are afraid that I may trigger your programming and that you will harm us. I am arguably the strongest of the Avengers here. They cannot do anything to subdue you that I cannot."

I open my eyes and find myself surprised by the lack of fear in her blue eyes. Before I can speak, she says, "I promise, I will use the utmost caution with you. I know that you do not want to go into cryostasis either."

Panic is starting to clutch at my chest again. "I don't know if I can do this."

"Touch my head the way I am touching yours," she says, her voice gentle. "I am going to allow you into my mind."

I move a tendril of hair out of the way and follow her directions. I instantly hear Clint's voice. "Are you scared?"

"No," she replies. "I want to help him. I do not want us to lose him."

I can feel her determination not to fail, her acknowledgement of needing to go as slowly as needed, her understanding of my apprehension, the genuine love she has for the Avengers.

I drop my hand, the connection breaking. "How do I know these are true and not just something you're showing me?"

She lets her hand rest on my shoulder, the metal one. For once, I don't flinch. "I suppose you will just have to trust me."

I like what I see in her eyes. I can't put a name to the emotion, but it makes me feel calm. She's not toying with me. "I think I trust you."

A rare smile flickers on her lips. "That will make this process easier."