A/N: Skylar Winchester, YOU'RE MY GIRL! You are more help to my writing process than you'll ever understand!:D

Lizeyli, thank you for your kind review.

To the guest who left a review, thank you so much for your comment about my story.

And to other faithful followers/readers of this story: thank you.

By the time Rebecca was resting comfortably, the darkness of night had finally descended upon the outside world.

Downstairs, Kim quietly exited from the sliding glass door, easing it closed behind her with a soft click. For a moment, her fingers lingered on the handle, not quite ready to let go. She hadn't stepped foot in the backyard since that first night, and even though nothing appeared unusual to her eyes, she remained alert, scanning her surroundings very carefully. All was still and quiet, save for the crickets and frogs ceaselessly eliciting their mismatched melodies. She wondered if she might hear any twigs snap in a tell-tale manner.

Exhaling slowly, Kim released the door handle and walked forward, taking her time as she took in every possible detail out here, from the shadows cast by light shining from the house windows behind her, to the rustling whisper of leaves as soft breezes passed. At the same time, her mind reflected on the long conversation between her and Steve, and how he'd advised her not to go looking for Bucky. For her safety, he wanted her to stay away from the man labeled a threat. She was going to keep her promise to him, but…

Halfway between her house and the trees, she came to a stop. The cold front that had passed through with the rain left behind cooler night temperatures, which caused the skin of her bare arms to feel slightly chilled. Despite this, it felt good to be outside as opposed to staying cooped up in the house for the past two days. Slowly crossing her arms, she just stood there, staring intently at the darkened vegetation at the far end of the yard. As she continued to let her thoughts surface, she gave a quiet sigh, feeling her shoulders sag slightly. It was the first time in quite a while that she was acknowledging how lonely she felt. Even though she had people who loved and cared about her—friends at the therapy center, the kids she worked with, Stark, Steve, and (for all her faults) Aunt Laura—she couldn't deny the fact that she was closer and closer to losing her grandmother. She was still trying to be strong, but she had her limits. The best person she could have ever been blessed with was dying. For all that Kim was currently going through, and all that she'd come to know about her great-uncle's fate, it couldn't overshadow that which had always been most important to her.

Grandma, she thought, her hands squeezing her arms. It's going to hurt so badly when you're gone. An overwhelming desire to simply be held in her grandmother's arms seized her heart, an act that could never again be replicated—

The familiar sting behind her sinuses prompted her to give a shake of the head. God damn it, stop it already! She ordered herself sternly. Stop crying!

Closing her eyes, she drew in a breath, then blew it out slowly through her lips. Stop it, she repeated, a lot calmer this time. When she opened them again, she glanced at the trees to the right, then gradually turned her head to the left. Then, in a voice that wavered slightly from pent up tears, she asked one question to the small patch of woods. "Are you here?"

"Yes."

She snapped her head back to the right, swallowing the gasp that tried to escape her throat. Her heart pounded heavily within her chest, as she hadn't expected an instant response. It had only been one word, but her ears instantly knew that deep voice. Despite being startled, she managed to keep herself relatively composed, and her eyes searched that portion of the woods. At first, she saw nothing. "W-where are you?"

There was a slight movement behind one of the closest tree trunks, and sure enough, she saw the partial outline of his form. He remained mostly obscured by darkness and shadows, but she knew it was him. Instinctively, she hugged herself tighter. Not out of fear; just nervousness. "Did you ever really leave?"

"No."

Somehow, that didn't surprise her. Why did you stay? She wanted to ask, but didn't. Summoning her courage, she took a few steps in his direction and said, "You don't have to hide. Will you come out where I can see you?" When she detected a hint of hesitation in his body language, she gently added, "Please."

There seemed to be a further moment of reluctance on his part, but she waited patiently, letting him take as much time as he needed. Her persistence paid off when he came forward with slow, measured steps. She felt her pulse pound a little harder as he gradually came into view, his bionic arm prominent among his attributes. His head was bowed as he emerged from the woods, long hair falling around his face as he avoided making eye contact. He kept several feet of distance between them, and when he came to a stop, he went still for what felt like a long minute. Then, he visibly sighed, raising his eyes to finally meet hers. Even in the darkness surrounding them, his features were quite clear.

Kim felt herself draw in a breath. It was the same face she'd seen the other night, and the same one she'd known ever since she was a little kid. Her great-uncle was standing before her yet again. Arms still crossed over her chest, she sighed and quietly said, "Bucky."

He tilted his head forward a degree, still maintaining eye contact. "At ease, soldier."

"Well met, Sergeant," she replied.

His eyes widened a bit at her statement. The formal salutation was one she'd picked up from her grandfather years ago, and she was certain no one had called Bucky by that title in a very long time. It must have sounded strange to him.

For a while, he remained silent. Then, "You look tired."

She arched her eyebrows, but didn't question a master assassin's ability to detect such qualities in the dark. By this point, her heart was hammering, which made her sound a little breathless when she said, "Yeah."

He kept his gaze locked with hers. "You didn't tell Steve about me."

"No. Wait—how'd you know I talked to him?"

"Windows were left open."

Oh, right. Jen had opened some of the windows earlier to take advantage of the cooler weather. So he hadn't been confining himself to the woods the entire time.

"He's your friend," he went on, "but you didn't tell him. Why?"

He's your friend, too, she thought. "Because I don't think you want to be found by him yet."

He went silent again, staring into her eyes with a look of complete and utter shame. "I…almost killed him."

"But you didn't," she said calmly, clearly. "You didn't. Steve's okay, and he's out there looking for you."

His breaths were shuddering. "I almost…killed him."

"Hey, don't do that to yourself," she carefully asserted, keeping her voice as soothing as possible. "You're Steve's best friend, and that won't change in his mind. It was HYDRA who made you do what you did. They erased your memory and programmed you to take out their enemies, and that included Steve. But you didn't realize what you were doing, did you?"

He said nothing.

"Did you?"

All too soon, she could sense him withdrawing into himself, and he turned back towards the woods. "I should go."

"No!" She started quickly, reaching out for him. She stopped when he froze in place, the left side of his body now facing her. From the way he was angling his head, though, she got the impression that he was waiting for her to speak. Letting her arm drop, she said the first thing that came to mind. "I don't want you to go."

He didn't move, just stood there as solid as a statue. "I don't deserve to be near you."

"That's for me to decide."

He sounded strained when he proclaimed, "I frightened you."

"No…"

"I did before," he insisted, hanging his head.

His tone suggested remorse, which suddenly filled her with acute sorrow. Feeling her pulse decrease in speed, she sighed and felt her features soften. "You did last time, but it's just that..." She trailed off, then tried again, keeping her voice as steady as possible. "You'd been dead all my life, and then I suddenly found out it wasn't true. It's not easy to have that suddenly smack you in the face. I wasn't sure how to handle it at first."

He continued to keep his gaze averted, and Kim worried that perhaps he'd take off without warning. But very gradually, he turned to face her again, and she was mildly surprised to see the genuine interest emanating from his eyes. "And now?"

Now? She also wondered to herself, then took a step towards him. As she did, he visibly tensed and clenched both hands into fists at his sides. Seeing this, she halted. It was more than apparent that he still needed his space, and she wouldn't push her luck. Funny; he'd initially tried to get in such close proximity to her, but now their roles were reversed. His actions caused the sorrow in her heart to intensify. "Bucky," she said reassuringly, "it's okay."

His eyes snapped shut when she'd said his name, and she could see him trying to cope with whatever emotions were surfacing. "No," he hoarsely whispered. "You should fear me."

"Why?" She pressed.

"You know what I am," his voice wavered, "the things I've done, those I've killed. You know more about who I am now than I do."

"Yes," she didn't deny it.

"Then you know what I'm capable of," his nostrils flared as he opened his eyes. "You know I could kill you."

She waited briefly, and even though her stomach dropped at his suggestion, she answered, "Yes."

He seemed to detect something in her reply, based on the way he suddenly inclined his head. "Then you should still fear me; you were wise to fear me to begin with. I'm a danger to you."

She raised her chin only a few centimeters, but it was a mildly defiant gesture. "Then why have you stayed here and kept watch over me? That's what you've been doing, isn't it?" He said nothing. She thought about being entrapped by that metal arm, and her gaze didn't falter when she asked, "Have you come to kill me?"

"No," he rasped, turning his head again.

She believed him. "Do you want to hurt me?"

"No," he repeated.

"Okay. Just one more question: do you really want me to be afraid of you?"

She quietly watched him debate that in his head, noting the subtle changes in his face when dealing with an instance of doubt, or confusion, or pain. There was so much going on in there, and she simply waited. These frequent pauses were reminiscent of her conversation with Steve, although now there was nothing awkward about it. It was just best for them both to take it slow. Very, very slow. Eventually, his shoulders sagged with a long exhale of breath, and a sense of control seemed to return to his features. When he turned to lock eyes with her once again, she saw in his face the same longing and heartache that had been present with her all week. It caused tears to pool at the bottoms of her eyes, whether she liked it or not. "You're not the person HYDRA's turned you into," she stated. "They made you do all those horrible things, but you didn't have any choice. I know you didn't."

For some reason, his head gave a small jerk. She swallowed, but wasn't spooked. "And no matter what you might think, or what you try to say, it doesn't change the fact that you're a part of my family."

Something flashed through Bucky's eyes then, almost like a sense of—disbelief? Gratitude? Hope? She couldn't quite define it. The barest tilt of his head made him appear curious; in a way, he was almost child-like with such mannerisms. "You're…not afraid of me," his voice was still intense.

Her eyes never leaving his, she shook her head "no." As she did, her pulse slowed even more, her muscles relaxed, and she legitimately felt most of the apprehension disappear from her heart. Even if she came to learn that he'd killed thousands of people as the Winter Soldier, she remembered what HYDRA had done to make him obedient.

No, I'm not afraid of you, Uncle Bucky, she thought, and it was true.

Maybe she was seeing things, but Kim could have sworn that he straightened a little in front of her. It made him seem taller, and she was grateful for the minute change. "Why are you here, Bucky?" She asked again.

He began to utter words in a foreign language that left Kim's brow furrowing. Based on the accent he used, it sounded like some form of Russian. That made sense, considering who he'd spent a majority of his time with over the years. It was interesting to hear, but didn't make sense. "I don't understand."

"'Family,'" he translated, "'is a haven in a heartless world.'"

That was like a dagger of sweet pain in her heart. Whether he'd come up with that on his own, or if it was a quote he'd heard somewhere, she didn't care. What he'd said was perfect, and the next wave of quiet tears began to roll down her face. She did nothing to stop them.

"You are family, Kim, and I came to protect my family."

I know, she thought, and didn't question why he thought she needed protection.

His mouth opened and closed twice before he got out, "My…my great-niece."

The sweet pain grew hotter in her chest. He finally finished the phrase she'd once put a stop to, and hearing the words made her give a faint, shaky smile. Bucky blinked, and though he didn't smile in return, he continued to hold her gaze with a sense of awe in his eyes.

After a while, she lifted a shoulder in a half shrug and sheepishly asked, "Should we hug now?"

That caused his eyes to widen a second time, and Kim saw the uncertainty that suddenly crossed his features. "I…" He couldn't seem to get the next words out. Or maybe he was intentionally holding them back. Either way, Kim waited, and after releasing a sigh, Bucky spoke in a hushed tone. "I might hurt you."

He doesn't trust himself with me, she realized. Well, Bucky, that's a risk we're just both going to have to take…

Sniffing back tears, Kim decided to simply act on pure instinct and stepped towards him, aiming to close the remaining distance between them. Already, she could see his chest expanding as he held his breath, hands clenching into fists yet again. She kept her actions slow and deliberate, all the while keeping her eyes locked with his. He stared back. Yes, he was nervous, and she could sense it. But she wanted him to see her, wanted him to understand that she ultimately meant him no harm, wanted him to know that she trusted him not to hurt her. Stupid move? Maybe, but there was no turning back now. She saw him swallow hard as she came to a stop in front of him, great-niece looking up to great-uncle. As often as she'd dreamed of this, she never dared to think that someday, this would actually come true. She could detect the faint scent of metal, sweat, and dirt clinging to him. From his photos, she'd always believed he would smell like fresh cologne, but this was very different from what she'd expected. It wasn't an offensive odor, though. He smelled like the outdoors, like he'd spent days out in the rain and wind and sun, which he probably had, and she found it strangely soothing. He didn't move, save for the rise and fall of his shoulders as he breathed. Insecurity was still evident in his features, but she never looked away from him.

Not even when she proceeded to slowly reach out until her hand just hovered over his bionic arm. This time, it was she who was hesitating, not sure if she was ready to commit to the next step. She wasn't given a choice, however, when Bucky leaned his arm forward into her palm. Kim couldn't help the small gasp that passed through her lips, finally breaking eye contact to see where her hand now laid. But after the initial shock wore off, she was secretly pleased at the way he'd taken the initiative. The metal against her trembling fingers was familiarly cool, though not nearly as scary as she remembered. In fact, she marveled at all the intricate grooves running from his fingers to his shoulder, which clearly provided the limb with fluidity and a shape nearly identical to his right arm.

"Whoa," she breathed, "it's really part of you."

"Yes."

"C-can you feel that?"

"Not the way you can."

She continued her up-close inspection of the bionic appendage. Fingers splayed across the smooth metal as she carefully ran her hand from his elbow to his wrist, taking in as many details as she could, from the life-like taper of his fingers, to the red star on his shoulder. She wanted to memorize everything. It really was a remarkable piece, which attested to Zola's genius, despite how much of a bastard he was in Kim's mind. What kind of metal was it made of? How strong was it? How much maintenance did it require? Could it be damaged? What kind of damage could it inflict? She thought of Steve; how much had it hurt to be punched by something like that? All these questions went unasked, but she didn't feel a need to voice them. She was just glad to get this far with physical contact.

With a sigh, she met his eyes again and gave a small smile. "That can be a start," she said, removing her hand from his arm.

But before she completely pulled away, Bucky's right hand shot out and grabbed her wrist in mid-air. A startled gasp caught in Kim's throat, but she didn't struggle against his solid hold. The strong, calloused fingers surrounding her wrist were firm, but not threatening, and she forced herself to relax in his grasp.

You won't hurt me, she thought to him. She still believed that.

He stared at her for a while, his grip never faltering. She let him hold on to her, wanting him to feel at ease making this kind of contact on his own terms. If this was all he could bring himself to do for now, then so be it.

It's okay, Bucky. It's oka—

"How close, Kim?"

Her brow furrowed. "What?

Patiently, he turned her arm over until her wrist was exposed, which donned one of the scars from her suicide attempt.

Kim felt her stomach sink. Oh damn…

"How close did you come?"

How close did you come to dying? He didn't have to finish in order for her to understand the point of his question, and the burn of shame filled her once again. "Pretty close," she whispered.

He went silent as he looked at her. If it were anyone else, she might have jerked away from his grasp, but she didn't seem to have the strength to pull away, nor did she really want to. Not from him, not in this moment. But it wasn't just Bucky's hold that had such a paralyzing effect on her: it was also the look in his eyes. There wasn't evidence of anger or disappointment, or even resentment as she'd anticipated. Instead, it was a look of…of…complete and utter distress. That alone prompted tears to blur her vision.

Ever-so-subtly, he shook his head as he glanced down at her wrist. "I can't…help but wonder…" he rasped.

She was listening intently. "What?"

When he ran his thumb over the raised mark, Kim sucked in a sharp breath. "If…I'd been there for you," he stammered, and she swore she saw his chin begin to quiver, "would this have happened?"

Oh…God…She felt as though she'd been punched in the gut. How could she answer that? What would have happened had he been in her life when Scotty died? When Mom and Dad died? Would anything have been different?

No…yes? Maybe…God, I don't know…

Then he looked her straight in the eye, and while his face was dead serious, it was also the most pleading look anyone had ever given her. "Kim," he harshly whispered, stroking his thumb over the scar a second time. "Never again."

There it was. The same concern and distress that she'd seen in his gaze was clearly evident in his voice. Closing her eyes, she slowly shook her head. No, Bucky, she solemnly promised, and she meant it with all of her heart. Never again. "I…" She started to say, but the words died on her tongue.

"What?"

She took a breath, released it, mentally ran though several versions of what she'd silently conveyed to him when she believed him to be nothing more than a guiding spirit in her life. Unfortunately, nothing sounded adequate in her mind. Shoulders sagging in defeat, she opened her eyes and all she could think of to tell him was, "I'm sorry."

He cocked his head, his hand tightening around her wrist as gently as he could manage. A comforting gesture. "You're alive. That's all that matters."

Her lips parted as she drew in a quiet breath, his proclamation as moving as it was heartbreaking, and she knew she'd remember those words for as long as she lived. This man barely knew her, yet had found ways to express how much she already meant to him…

Bucky was still holding onto her wrist, his thumb still covering her scar, and she allowed him to maintain the contact. She sighed. As much as she wanted to discuss the details of what had taken place that night, wanted to tell him what had been going through her head when she made that decision…she couldn't bring herself to do it. Not yet, anyway. There was too much going on tonight, and she wasn't ready to open up about that. He wasn't pressing her for information, though. Somehow, they both knew this was not an appropriate time for that subject. For this, she was grateful, and hoped he could sense the gratitude shimmering behind her eyes.

"Are you going to leave?" She asked softly.

He released her wrist from his grasp, and Kim's skin tingled from the loss of his warm touch. "Do you want me to go?"

"No," she answered. "Please stay." He did just that, regarding her with a pensive gaze. There was nothing intimidating about him; he was just focused solely on her. He was staying, and for that, she was relieved. "Umm, are you hungry at all?"

He drew a deep breath. "Yes."

Whoa. How long had it been since he last ate? "Okay. Well…I can feed you. Come on inside."

His expression became wary, and as he visibly tensed, he actually took a step back.

Her brows knit with worry, fearing he might leave after all. "What is it?"

"I—" His hands clenched into fists again, and he looked past her to scan the exterior of the house. "Rebecca."

She gave him an incredulous look. "You remember her?"

"Yes."

Oh, wow. Considering how many times HYDRA had wiped his memory... "How?"

"I see her when I look at you," he turned his gaze back to her to emphasize his point. "You have her eyes."

Her stomach did a flip, and she felt herself mouth the word "oh," but wasn't sure if she'd said it out loud. Amazing. A physical trait she'd acquired from her grandmother had sparked some sort of memory in his scattered brain. She never would have guessed she could have that kind of power. The idea gave her a renewed sense of hope. "Do you want to see her?"

A panicked look crossed his features, which she immediately recognized.

"Hey," she stepped forward, lightly placing a hand on his bionic shoulder. He instantly froze at her touch, but he didn't retaliate in any way. "Hey, forget I asked. We don't have to do anything you're not ready to do, okay?"

He glanced at the hand on his shoulder, then back at her.

Maybe he was going to be okay with her doing that. "Just…come inside so we can talk for a bit. That's all."

He hesitated, throwing another look at the old house.

"Don't worry," she soothed. "Grandma's bedroom is upstairs, and she's sleeping. She won't even know you're here. Trust me."

His nostrils flared as he breathed. "Does she know?"

There was no mistaking the fear in his voice. Wordlessly, she shook her head.

He looked at her, and she could detect the appreciation hidden deep within his eyes. Thank you, he was saying to her.

She gave a fleeting smile as she removed her hand from his shoulder. "Come on. I'll show you inside."

Together, they walked across the grassy expanse of the backyard as they returned to the house. All the while, Bucky threw protective glances all around them, searching the darkness for any potential threats to his niece's well-being. Kim knew there were no immediate dangers in the vicinity, but his protective stance toward her made her feel more at ease than she could have ever anticipated. The Winter Soldier might be one of HYDRA's deadliest assets, but here with her, he was a man fiercely defending his family. She was glad to finally have her great-uncle by her side.

A/N: "Family is a haven in a heartless world." Christopher Lasch