If our best friends can be our worst enemies, can our worst enemies be our best friends?
Bucky watches the train move away, and with it, his last hope of life. I don't want to die, is his first thought. I want Steve to save my life. Ha! And to think I used to have to run around saving his. Ironic. But I don't want irony, I want life! Why haven't I hit the ground yet? No, don't look down. Don't look down. He looks down. What the hell is that thing?—
Bucky wakes up and stands slowly. His head is full of questions, but he pushes them away with one thought. I am happy to be alive. The room he is in is plain. It has a white bed, similar to the kinds found in hospitals (but more comfortable), a window, a single electric light on the ceiling, a white dresser. He looks through the dresser and finds some plain-looking clothes. On top of the dresser is a glass of water with a single daffodil in it. The daffodil gives the white room a hint of yellow. Bucky finds his shoes by the door and puts them on.
Bucky walks down the hallway until he finds a door labeled Büro. "Office," he whispers and steps inside. He is alone. He sits behind the desk and waits. The clock on the wall reads six-thirty.
When the clock strikes seven a man walks in. He is surprised to see Bucky sitting behind his desk, but quickly pulls a chair up in front. "You must have some questions for me."
Bucky asks the first one that comes to his head. "How many of those do you have?"
The man chuckles and touches his face softly. "Let me explain a few things…"
AN: I've had this on my computer and only got around to uploading it now, lazy person that I am. Reviews are apreciated and there are more chapters coming!