First, I'd just like to say that thing is scarily beautiful. My eyes trailed up from the intricate detail of his hand, along the plates and mechanics that made up his forearm to the red star surrounded by scratches and markings and then onto the seams – more like burns - where metal met flesh. From there I let my eyes wander to the bloody mess that was his left side. He seemed to have only been hit once but it looked like a fucking mess.

I had years of mom bringing me to the hospital with her when she couldn't get a sitter for me when I was younger to thank for the fact that the sight of his blood didn't immediately make me want to throw up. The idea that someone had done this to him almost did though.

I knew who he was when I saw the metal arm, I'm sure mom did too. He was The Winter Soldier. The man on the news almost a month ago trying to kill Captain America. The same man that Captain America had been asking people for information on if they ever saw him. The same man Captain America had claimed had been brainwashed into doing what HYDRA had made him do. The same man I had spent hours ranting to my mom about after I had found some information on him from Black Widow's info dump a month previously.

After a couple of seconds, mom heaved a heavy sigh and pinched the bridge of her nose before studying James once more.

"Is there even any point fighting you on this?"

"Would you want to if you could?" I asked, knowing she was addressing me.

"No."

I grinned. "I love you, mom."

"I love you too, honey. Now, James, I'm going to need you to put your left arm up here on the counter so I can get better access to your wound."

Slowly, James looked up to my mom, glanced between us, then focussed back on my mom. "You still want to…help me?"

Mom looked at me and then smiled wryly at James. "My name is Emily Reyes, this is my daughter, Zara. I'm going to fix up your side, Zara is going to make some dinner then we are going to talk and you have the option of staying in one of the guest bedrooms tonight."

"Curry?"

Mom nodded and poked at James' left arm to get him to place it on the counter while I started on dinner. Not long later, James was fixed up and wearing a shirt again – much to mom's disappointment apparently. Can't hide anything from me dear mother… - and dinner was cooking slowly.

"So," mom started, "the man on the bridge, was the Steve Rogers?"

I almost fell off of my stool.

I was staring at James. James was staring back at me. Mom was glancing between us with a fond smile. "He called you Bucky. Oh my God." I sprinted out of the kitchen and ran to my bedroom looking through the box under my bed. When I slid back into the kitchen my mom was stirring the curry sauce and James was still sitting in the same spot. I ran over beside him and smiled. "You said your name was James." He nodded. "This James?" I questioned as I placed the history textbook on the counter, open to page 96.

"Surprised it took you that long," mom came over to join us.

"Been a long day," I mumbled in response.

"Where did you get this?" James asked with wide eyes.

"It's a school textbook. I'm kind of a history nerd." His hands were shaking as he reached out and traced the picture of himself on the page. An overwhelming feeling of loss came over me. "You can keep it if you want." He looked up at me. I shrugged and turned away to hide my face as I poured myself a glass of milk. "It's from last year. We've finished that course."

When I turned back he closed the book but kept one hand resting on it. He didn't say anything but he nodded at me and the feeling of gratitude washed over me. My mom's pride out-shone it though as she placed an arm around my shoulders. I gave a practiced smile to the room.

"James," she said as she sat across from him, "the people you used to work for-"

"I'm not going back," he interrupted, voice quiet but steely. "I won't go back." I could tell he meant it and conveyed that to mom with a single look.

"Good, because if you plan to stay here and let us help, which - lord help me - I hope you do, then you need to know a few things about us."

"Mainly about me," I interjected as I gave the sauce one last stir before turning the heat down low and put the rice on to boil. When I turned back around, mom had fixed me with an exasperated look that I was on the receiving end of far too often.

"Yes," she deadpanned. "Mainly about Zara." Mom's attention returned to James as she sat down on a stool across from him and pulled me down by my sleeve into the stool beside her. "What do you know about mutants?"

I raised an eyebrow at my mom but she was staring intently at James who was looking back at her with a mildly quizzical air about him. I hadn't expected her to go right for the mutant thing. Maybe beat around the bush about it for a little but not to throw it right out there and ask him.

"I know a little," he said. "I know they are people who can do…things…that other people can't. I know that HYDRA has devoted an entire division to hunting them and experimenting on them to try to figure out their mutation."

"We call it the X-gene." Mom gave me a sharp look. I looked down. "Sorry."

Mom sighed.

"What is your opinion on mutants?"

"My…opinion?" The man looked genuinely surprised to be asked that but he quickly shook it off and shrugged. "A lot of people are different." He nodded to his arm. "I'm different."

I watched as mom stared down the world-class assassin and former Howling Commando for several minutes before she seemed satisfied with finding whatever it was she had been looking for.

"You said you're never going back?"

"Never."

"You promise that if you decide not to stay and let us help that you won't tell anyone about us?"

He didn't instantly agree and for that I was thankful. If he had of I wouldn't have believed him for a second and I know my mother wouldn't have either. Instead, he stared straight back at my mom for a few moments before staring at me with the same intense, confused gaze. Then he shifted, straightening his posture and locking eyes with my mom again. He nodded.

"I promise."

The sincerity in those words that washed over me is something I don't think I could ever explain with words but I will sure as hell give it a shot. The shift from unsure to certain happened gradually at first but then from one instant to the next it was as though someone had slammed the brakes and pulled him to an abrupt decision. The genuine certainty that he had that he would not tell a soul hit like a brick wall. I could feel that in the sea of uncertainties within the man's life, James was sure about this. He would not tell anyone.

"I'm a mutant."

"Zara!"

"My mutation is empathy."

"Give me strength…"

"Empathy?" I had James' full attention, though he glanced briefly at my mom when she scolded me.

I nodded.

"I can feel other peoples' emotions. It's kind of like telepathy – reading a person's thoughts – but not as accurate. For instance, I can tell when you are feeling confused or surprised or scared but I don't know why unless it's something obvious. Right now I know you are a little bit surprised and if I wanted I could focus and find the root of that emotion to find out why but that takes too much energy and focus. Besides, I don't like doing that unless I have to because it's pretty invasive."

"Zara," mom interrupted. "Why don't you go wash up for dinner? I'll plate it up."

I nodded and made my way out of the kitchen as mom turned to the stove to sort out the dinner. When I came back down the hallway towards the kitchen I stopped just outside the closed door. I could feel how tense my mom was feeling on the other side and the slight confusion of James.

"- all well and good but listen," my mom sighed, "Zara didn't explain everything there is to know about what she can do and I know there are a few things she would have left out. Zara's mutation can be…tricky. Because of that, she can sometimes project her own emotions on other people nearby if the emotions she feels are strong enough and she loses her hold on them. She keeps a tight lid on her abilities and she can't be expected to maintain that constantly so sometimes things slip through."

"She seems like a good kid." James' confusion melted into understanding.

Mom huffed a laugh. "Yeah, but she can be a little reckless sometimes. She follows her gut a lot and while I encourage her instincts they've gotten Zara in a lot of trouble before. Especially where her mutation is concerned. Just… If you stay here just promise me something. Promise me you won't hurt her. I know that you've been through a lot – to put it lightly – and I know that that will come with a hell of a lot of baggage. PTSD, flashbacks, nightmares the whole nine yards and I want to help you. I do. But that is my little girl out there eavesdropping on this conversation."

"Dammit," I whispered just before making a show of sweeping into the room as though nothing happened. "Food ready? Yum." I grabbed two bowls of food from the counter, kissed my mom on the cheek in thanks and sank back onto the stool I'd been sitting in before. I slid the second bowl across the island and James stopped it with his right hand, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Mom rolled her eyes and passed us both spoons as she sat down with her own food and we dug in. Well, mom and I did. James hesitated long enough for it to be my turn to roll my eyes.

"You put the food on the spoon and then put the spoon in your mouth. Swallow and repeat. See?" I made a show of scooping up some rice and curry and eating it. He looked highly unamused but he finally began eating. Eating as though he hadn't in a week. Which might be accurate, now that I think about it.

I frowned as I focussed a little more and could feel the pang of hunger that had been radiating from him since I first saw him. It was like a quiet hum compared to the mess of other things he was feeling which explained why I didn't sense it before. I shook it off and pulled myself back to myself to see that he was already half way done. I grinned when mom tried to casually glance back at the left-overs. Let me tell you, the woman would never make it as a spy.

James had almost cleaned his plate when we were still only half-way through our own food.

"There is extra on the stove if you want it."

James studied me for a moment before nodding.

I shrugged. "Help yourself then."

"Zara!" Mom elbowed me and I glanced up.

"What?"

Mom glared. "James is our guest."

I stared. "You aren't serious." Mom's expression didn't waver. "Fine." James gave up his empty plate without much protest and I begrudgingly filled it up again with the leftovers, making a show of grumbling about it the entire time while suppressing a small smile when I felt the amusement of both of them behind me.

After the food mom showed a rather quiet – and by that I mean silent - James the guest room he would be staying in, down the hall from the two of us on the second floor and then made me change the sheets while the two of them returned downstairs to talk.

"Subtle," I murmured as she passed me by. We both knew she was just making sure I wasn't left alone with the guy still clutching my favourite textbook like a lifeline.

Something told me the next few nights would be quite an experience.

A/N: So please review and let me know if you're looking more, I might be writing it anyway but I need to find the time first.

Curse you, exams.

- Emma