Bucky fought to try and get the shower to work, for hours. But for some reason it wouldn't. He was aggravated, but at least that curious kid and the mutt was gone.

He's pulled the torn curtains in front of the windows to wrap the rooms in darkness. The flat was small, one bedroom without a door, a bathroom with a shower, a tub with a broken off faucet and broken sink, the kitchen, and nothing else. The kitchen was equipped with a fridge without handle, empty except for the half full milk carton, two counters, one of them leaning against the back wall as two of its feet had gone missing, and a table with three chairs. Beside that table was a wide armchair, the one he'd nearly missed seeing the girl sleep in when he retreated to the large bed in the otherwise empty bedroom.

It was a sad way of living, but he planned on staying until things calmed down.

He'd sent her to patch up a wound, a bullet wound to be exact. He hadn't told her that, just to get what, and how it looked.

He sat down in the large blue armchair, and rid himself of the stinking leather jacket before pulling his shirt over his head, hissing as the fabric rubbed against the wound by his collarbone, on the right side of his chest.

He was free of Hydra's grasp, he was free of brainwashing, and killing, free of SHIELD hunting him down, for now. For now, he was free.

Yet, he didn't understand why he felt like crying, he felt vulnerable, lost, alone.

He rested his elbows on his knees, rubbing his hands over his face he sighed. He wanted to cry, just fucking get it over with before that damned kid got back, but he couldn't.

His head was lifted, when he heard keys rattle in hands and a small voice mumble, growing more and more quiet the closer it got.

"Every town, has its ups and down, sometimes the ups outnumber the downs…."

He didn't know the song, it was slow, and didn't sound very happy.

"But not in Nottingham."

Immediately her voice ceased as the door cracked open and the dog sped inside.

He didn't know how but her presence was awfully calming, it felt like home and home he needed. It forced him to be strong, it forced him to be.

She was alone, he knew it from the start. She was a sad girl, with an amazing smile. He could only guess how old she was, ten perhaps? Eleven?

The girl's heavy backpack made her slump as she walked straight up to him and dropped it by his feet, she gave him a smile as she knelt down to unzip it.

She didn't look at him as she placed one thing after the other in his arms.

"I brought you some Vitamin Juice, you looked a little pale. And here, cereal, thought you might be more hungry than that…. Here's some gauzes, uh plasters, that dis- disin- disinfectant stuff you wanted."

He inevitably smiled as she had trouble pronouncing the name, trying to read it off the bottle. But it faded when he didn't see her eyes catch the word, but just stare and squint at the bottle. She couldn't read.

She zipped the backpack back up, and when she took it in her hands and rose to her feet again he saw her face was sullied. It was no dirty, no mud she could've played in while she was away. It was a black eye, and it was showing quickly. Her eyes were red, like she'd been crying, and it wasn't from the night when he heard her sobbing in her sleep.

"You're hurt." he stated staring at the bruise instantly. Not even he, a master assassin, former master assassin would hurt a child.

She brushed some of her brunette curls away from her dark brown eyes as she looked to her feet for a moment.

"It's just a black eye." she sent him a comforting smile but he just shook his head, putting the things he'd been handed beside him on the ground for him to reach for later.

"Your arm, is it armor?" she asked tilting her head in curiousity, and he quickly realised he'd forgotten to mentally prepare for him to see his metal arm.

"No." his voice was deeper than he'd expected, and he wondered if something was stuck in his throat. With trouble he cleared it, enduring her confused gaze.

"It's a prosthetic. I lost it, I forgot how." he shook his head faintly as he watched her grab the backpack and move to the kitchen counters, opening a few drawers.

He watched her stuff one thing after the other into the small compartments.

"Whatever it was… it must've been dangerous." she said quietly, focused, before she stopped and turned back around to give him a lopsided and weak smile.

"I'm glad you're alive." A curt, slow nod emphasized her words, and for a moment he did believe a kid like her could've 'saved' him.

Hearing her words, he felt something turn inside his stomach, he didn't know if he was sick, or happy, happy that someone was glad he existed.

He looked over to see the puppy roll in the bed he'd slept on previously, it looked happy, almost cute. It helped with the awkward silence Bucky had definitely been the one to bring to life.

"You stole those things, didn't you?" he asked slowly, not hesitating, but he was careful to grasp her reaction.

"I did." she nodded.

"But once I'm rich, I'll pay all of it back, and much more!" she turned around to him, smiling, moving her arms each in a circle as she jumped slightly.

"Once?" he raised his brows, chuckled and smiled as he repeated her words.

"Yeah… well…. I need a plan, and you, you need a haircut." she crossed her arms faking offence.

"Maybe we both do?" he lifted a hand lazily to point at her, and quickly dropped it again, keeping a small grin on his face.

"I know, right? I do! What hero has long hair, right?" she seemed amazed with his statement, absolutely enthused as she babbled nodding all the while. "I keep telling people, it could get caught somewhere, someone could pull on it! It can be so annoying, and distracting!" He had trouble catching up, going over her words, end to beginning.

"A hero?" one of his eyes squinted slightly as he tilted his head to look at her.

"That's what I'd say if people asked me what I'd want to be some day. When I'm old enough, I'll be a hero, like people fantasize those people, the avengers, to be." she smiled, the dimples on her cheeks defined, her eyes sparkling despite the bruise.

"And hey, I'm on my way there! You're actually my first damsel in distress!"

He felt like destroying her fantasy, he was tempted to throw her into reality. Heroes don't have it well, heroes are never happy, heroes die, heroes get hurt, heroes lose everything. But then he realised, she didn't have it well, she wasn't always happy, and she'd die, she got hurt, and she had nothing.

"Do you know how much I had to do to get you here?" His eyes shot back at her, as they'd drifted away, with his thoughts.

"What'd you have to do?" he asked halfheartedly, he didn't really care, he was sure it wasn't too much.

But once she began speaking, he realised the girl would move mountains for a stranger. But she was so pleased with a daydream, that reality just wasn't there. And if he thought about it, he wanted her stupid dream to go on forever.

"Okay so, I went to the museum like every day. To see my hero. A real hero, you know? Sidekicks aren't sidekicks, they are as much heroes as heroes. I'm sure you've heard of Captain America, you have right? Well if you have, then you have to know about Bucky Barnes. Actually his name is James Buchanan 'Bucky' Barnes." he chuckled smiling endlessly when she mispronounced his middle name terribly, but he listened to her go on, until his smile dropped and something else took over his face. That was him. That was his name. He was her… hero?

"So, then James and I got breakfast, we sat down on the side of the road… an alley to be specific, but that doesn't matter. And then you were there! Well first of all, you kicked me, you just laid there, you scared the… hell out of me! I thought you were dead! So, I knew I had to get you out of the rain that was coming. So I ran home, to that little shop downstairs. I didn't have any money but I knew I had to get that little wagon- cart thing to get you somewhere safer. So I… I just gave the lady James…. I got the cart, and got you here. I ran all day so I fell asleep, I'm sorry I couldn't help you more, I was running basically all day!" Slowly Bucky began to squint at her.

"How'd you get the dog back?" he questioned suspiciously.

"I broke in…." she clearly felt guilty, and pulled up her shoulders as if it would dampen her words. "But she just left him in there! During a thunder storm! He hates thunder storms!" she frowned at him.

"Heroes wouldn't do that….." he scoffed, shaking his head and reaching down to grab the disinfectant.

"I said I'd pay everything back…." she mumbled and he knew that she was as certain as she, that she'd never be able to….

He sighed as she handed him a clean white cloth from a small hanger over the useless counters. He poured the disinfectant over it and began cleaning his wound slowly.

"So why's your shower not working…?" he asked casually.

From the corner of his eyes he saw her hop onto a counter to look at her dangling legs.

"Don't know. Electricity's not working either, obviously." he raised his brows before looking from his task to her in surprise.

"And you still live here, willingly?" he asked, he could've bared the rundown apartment if he hadn't known that.

"Fine then. If you give me the bed, and let me live here, with you if it must be, then I'll help you turn this place into a real home. If you help me 'get' what we need for that, that is." he suggested. He was sure she was naive enough to let a stranger live with her. She'd just dragged him in, literally for christ's sake.

He still had a suspicion that he was just a trophy to her, her first act of heroism, and he let her have it, but still only acted on that fact. "Deal."

"How do you live here alone, without any money anyway?" he frowned focusing back on the wound again.

"Oh that's a funny story too. So this guy used to live here, big guy, european I think. Yeah he died, don't know how, but they cleared this place of all his things, and a day later they announced this place will be torn down completely in five months. I had my eye on this place… kind of, before I lived here I lived down the street, between the dumpsters, y'know. Preparing for heroism." she chuckled slightly.

She was nuts, he'd decided that. But something made him like her, maybe she reminded him a bit of something, of what he had yet to find out. But he knew she would not give up on that naive dream of hers.

He knew she was aware it wasn't 'funny', that how she was living was terrible, but in her eyes, it was only the intro to some 'great story' and she therefore tried to enjoy it.

"And how'd you get that dog of yours?" He couldn't help but ask for another 'fun' story.

"His name is James." she sighed. "And he's not just a dog, he's my sidekick." she muttered.

"Fine, where'd you get 'James the sidekick'?" he sighed rolling his eyes slightly.

"He got me actually, I gave him pizza, he looked hungry, and he followed me home." He realised she wasn't bubbly, like most girls he was used to, in fact he wasn't very used to children at all, she was simply happy, and once he put effort in it, easily identified happiness.

"I… could you maybe fix the window in the bedroom now, then?" she looked from her feet to them.

"Is it broken?" he questioned surprised, he hadn't bothered to look around, when he went to sleep there.

"Some kids threw stones, and it broke…." she shrugged.

"Were you one of those kids?" he arched a brow at her.

"Maybe…." she mumbled and he shook his head at her.

"Do you have any tools, something to board it up with in case it rains again?" he asked her, praying she did.

"Yes! I mean, kind of, you could take this counter apart, I don't need it, not any more than we need complete windows." she kicked her foot against the front of it before letting it swing back and forth slightly again, like the other.

We? He found himself slightly frightened she might grow some form of attachment to him, but then again, he didn't really mind…. She needed some protection, and he needed some company, it didn't matter if it was a dog and some kid.

"Alright, just give me a minute, okay kid?"

"Don't call me that, robocop."

"What does that even mean?"

"I don't know."