The next morning, Maggie found herself waking up behind another dumpster, her clothes and hair completely soaked. On the bright side, it was probably the cleanest she'd been in months, excluding the fact that she was on the ground behind a dumpster. After stopping at a local Chinese restaurant so she could use the bathroom to change into her dry clothes and get a plastic bag for the wet ones, she went to a soup kitchen to get something to eat, then she settled in another alley where no one else was staying to relax. It was a little wet there, but she was still a little wet so it didn't really matter. Luckily, the contents in her backpack managed to stay dry, thanks to the plastic bag; she was especially worried about her comic books.

She was about to pull one out to read, when some guy ran into the alley. He was big, not too tall – though he wasn't short either – but also looked kind of buff underneath the t-shirt, jeans, and hoodie. He didn't appear to have seen her, since she'd crawled behind a line of garbage cans the second she saw him approach, but she clearly saw him. It was obvious he'd been running from someone or something; how out of breath he was, the frantic look in his eyes, and the search for a way to escape – which that alley didn't have. It was all too familiar to her. For a moment, it seemed like he'd evaded his pursuers, but then 4 men dressed like G.I. Joe drenched in black paint shuffled after the first guy. "Come quietly, soldier." One of the Joes, the one wearing a skull-like mask, ordered the first guy, gun raised and aimed. The first guy, "soldier," just glared at him as the other 3 Joes crept in closer. One reached out, thinking the soldier would obey the one Maggie assumed was the leader's order, but soldier lashed out and elbowed him in the face, making all hell break loose. Two of the others started firing their gun, but soldier easily dodged them, taking out each one with his bare hands.

Maggie was so fixed on the action in front of her, she didn't notice the guy in the mask creeping towards her. It wasn't until the soldier threw one of the guys against the dumpster that she was made aware of his presence. She screamed and scurried out the other side, only to have the first guy snatch her up by the waist and start running down the street. "Hey!" She shouted and started squirming in his grasp.

"Shut up and hold still." He quickly answered. She had no choice but to obey, and stayed quiet as he sprinted away from the attackers. When they reached a metro station, there was a big enough crowd that the guy put her down and took her hand to drag through it. He looked back a few times to see if the other guys were still on their tail before slipping out of the crowd, dragging Maggie along with him, and going back into the city.

After running for a few more blocks, he stopped in yet another alley and sat down against the wall, a sigh of relief escaping him. Maggie didn't sit, not wanting to get too close to this guy who was easily twice her size. "You been eating enough, kid?" He asked casually. "You can't way 100 pounds soaking wet."

"I was hiding behind a dumpster, what do you think?" She retorted.

"Point taken." He looked at her. "You can sit down if you want."

"Who were those guys, and why were they chasing you?" She demanded, ignoring his offer.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"…fine…" She conceded and sat down. "So, do you have a name?"

He paused for a second. As she watched him think, it looked like he was trying to remember, like he'd been asking himself that question for a long time. Then, still staring at his hands, said, "James, I'm James."

"You don't sound so sure…" she commented suspiciously.

"It's a long story, and I said I don't want to talk about it." He looked up at her, annoyed. "What about you?"

"My name's Maggie." She answered. "Nice to meet you…I think…"

He nodded. "So why were you behind that dumpster? And where are your parents?"

"I couldn't care less where my dad is right now, and my mom…" she sighed, "died last year."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"So what's your story?" She asked.

"I said I don't want to talk about it." He snapped.

"No, you said you didn't want to talk about why those guys were chasing you." She sassed, making him grumble in annoyance, then sigh and lean his head back against the wall.

"To be honest, I don't know the whole story."

"So you've got amnesia? That's so cool!" She said, her eyes lighting up a bit, then she got serious again. "Um, I mean, that's really sad, I'm sorry. I just meant if you're homeless too…"

"More or less…"

"Well…" She thought for a second. "Maybe you were in the army, since that one guy called you 'soldier' and you could kick some serious butt, and maybe you lost your memories n combat." She saw him tense, like she'd triggered a bad memory or something. "Okay, I'll stop prying…"

"Thanks." He sighed and pulled a half-eaten roll out of his pocket. "Hungry?"

"No thanks, I'm good." She shook her head, and he just shrugged and took a bite. As they sat there, the only sound between them was him eating the bread, it started to rain again. "We'd better find shelter."

"Good luck." He said and stood up, starting to walk away.

"Wait, where are you going?" She asked and followed after him.

"I'm getting out of the rain and you should too, like you said."

"So you're going to leave? But those guys might come back."

"They're after me, not you."

"But who's an easier target: a big guy who can kick butt like you, or a skinny little kid living on the street?"

He stopped and didn't say anything for a second, then reached for her hood and put it over her head. "I've got a place set up in an abandoned building about half-way across town from here. Think you can make the trek?"

"Is the Pope Catholic?" She answered and went up next to him. This was great, now people wouldn't try to mess with her since she's got a big muscly guy with her, and it'll look less suspicious than a little kid walking around by herself.

James was right, it was a pretty long hike, but they made it to what looked like an old apartment building. The windows were either broken out or boarded up, the walls were covered in vines and looked like they could crumble at any second. "Don't worry, it's stable enough and I'm set up on the bottom floor." He said and led her inside to a room with a rundown mattress on the floor, a torn up couch and random things she assumed he'd collected over time.

She stepped in farther while he sprawled himself on what was left of the couch with a drawn out grunt. "Nice place…"

"It's shelter."

"True." She said and sat down next to him, keeping her backpack with her.

"What've you got in there?" James asked, looking at her out of the side of his eye.

"Just some basic stuff I took when I left home." She shrugged and listed the contents. "I just wish I could've brought all my comic books with me, it was really hard picking which ones to bring."

"What comics?" He asked, amusement and curiosity laced in his voice.

"Captain America." She said casually, and he suddenly seemed much more interested. "I have every single issue of the Captain America comics, even from the 1940's."

"That's pretty impressive…"

"Thanks," she said proudly, "I'm a huge nerd when it comes to Captain America, I've even seen all his movies and have all the trading cards. But it's funny, all the ones I brought with me except the one with the Avengers have his friend Bucky in them."

He looked at her with more than just simple curiosity. "His friend Bucky?"

"Yeah…" She said and scooted away from him a bit.

"What can you tell me about him?"

"Well, he was Steve – er – Captain America's best friend since they were kids, was his second-in-command on the Howling Commandos, and died on a mission in the Alps not long before Steve got frozen in the ice."

He sighed, disappointedly. "Is that it?"

"Well no." She pulled out one of the comics. "This is my favorite one. It's where Bucky has to do a mission by himself because it's something Steve would never do and that's basically his whole thing. He does the dirty work that Steve can't because he's the perfect American hero. He also taught Steve how to shoot a gun more than what basic training taught him, and that his body was never found." James nodded and sat back, content with her answer. "Out of curiosity, why do you ask?"

"No reason." He answered and closed his eyes.

"Bull." She muttered and put the comic book back in the bag.

"Hm?" He opened one eye.

"I don't believe you."

"Believe what you want, I'm not talking about it."

"That's not fair. I've told you about me, but haven't told me anything about you."

"Life's not fair, kid. Get used to it."

"You're a jerk." She said and hit him with the bag.

"Well you're a little punk." He grabbed it and held it out to the side while his left hand kept her from moving to get it. After about a minute of the fruitless endeavor, she gave up and sat back on the couch with a disgruntled huff, her arms crossed. Then, as the rain outside went from just a sprinkle to a drizzle, some thunder rumbled through the air, making her jump a little bit.

"Scared of thunder?" He chuckled and handed the backpack back to her.

"No!" She snapped and snatched it from him. "It just startled me, that's all." But then, a flash of lightening lit up the darkening sky, and she jumped again, letting out a little squeak.

"Liar." He said and she stuck her tongue out at him.

"I'm normally okay, but this is my first thunderstorm without my Bucky Bear."

"You're what?"

"…it's a teddy bear dressed like Bucky." She admitted, blushing a little, and he couldn't hold back a chortle.

"You're like 11 and you need a stuffed animal to hold in a thunderstorm?"

"My mom always said that there was no shame in having something to help you get through something you're afraid of." She protested. "And I'm 12!" As she said that, there was another couplet of thunder and lightening, making her curl up on the couch, wishing she could shrivel up and sink into the cushion.

"Hey, it's alright." He said and put an arm on her shoulder and when he felt how much she was shaking, cringed slightly. "This is a real problem for you, isn't it?"

"Mhm." She nodded into her knees.

"Hey, it's okay. I'm right here." He put his arm over her shoulders and she couldn't stop herself from holding tightly onto him. It was odd how comforting it felt with him holding on to her, and the shaking started to lessen until the thunder and lightning sounded again.

James looked down at the girl who was wrapped around him like a belt. He thought he'd have no idea how to comfort her, but it felt so natural, like he'd done it before. Maybe the man who called him James…no that couldn't be right. This kid was tiny, the size of a sapling, and that man was at least six foot. But he also got images in his head of the man looking about the kid's size, if a bit taller, but how was that possible? Sure someone could bulk up from working out, but he would've had to grow at least another half a foot.

The storm let up after a few minutes and she loosened her grip on his waist. "You know, it's getting kinda dark," James said, managing to pull the little girl's arms off him so he could stand up. "Why don't we turn in? You can sleep on the couch if you want."

Feeling a bit disappointed at being pried off from her new protector, she simply nodded and pulled the blanket from her backpack as he laid down on the mattress. Using the bag as a pillow, she curled up on the couch and closed her eyes, still shaking a bit as thunder softly rolled through the air with less ferocity than before. James looked over at her for a minute, to make sure she was comfortable, before closing his eyes and letting his body relax and fall asleep.