Hey :D!

So its Friday, the weekend is nearly here and the next chapter is here now :)

Hope you guys enjoy.

Disclaimer:
I own nothing. All belongs to Marvel accept Maggie, she's mine.

CHAPTER VI

Maggie had started her morning like most early mornings, disgruntled by the alarm that awoke her. Having to resist hitting the snooze button wasn't as great as she might have imagined. To say she was in a foreign room, and in a foreign bed she couldn't remember anything after her head hit the pillow.

On peeking through the door of Roberta's room she is surprised to see her just lying there awake already. Her mouth sat slightly agape as she just stares to the window. The smell of ammonia was one nobody could mistake. Feeling a weight upon her heart, she pushes those feelings down and let her head do the work.

"Morning, sweetheart. I hope you don't mind, I'm going to look after you okay?" Maggie speaks softly as she brushes the whisper of hair upon Roberta's forehead. "Let's get you ready to watch that sun rise, yeah?"

There was no response and nor was Maggie waiting for one, she just set to work.

First and foremost was the job of getting her cleaned up and the bed stripped. It was usually a two man job and if she was doing this in the hospital she would be breaking all sorts of rules and regulations, but she wasn't at work and she managed just fine.

To help with any distress, she kept on talking all the while.

Roberta complained when it came to getting her in the hoist. It wasn't the most comfortable of things, nor did it look all that new, but sturdy enough to move her over to her armchair without worry.

Once she was settled into her chair, all clean, tucked up with a blanket and the curtains opened Maggie felt comfortable leaving her so that she could finish the bed, and make it all crisp and fresh for her later, before bagging up the dirty linen.

"I'm just going to make you some breakfast, sweetheart. I might even sneak some maple syrup." Maggie gives the old lady a smile, knowing she had seen some syrup in the fridge a couple of days ago. Leaving the window just very slightly open, in order for the room to get some air, but not enough for her to get cold.

Quickly Maggie leaves the room, and works her way as silently as possible down the stairs, remembering the living rooms sleeping occupants.

Bucky hadn't slept again and he had no intention to, instead he had stay in the same position in the armchair all night, lost in his thoughts, trying to tune out the obnoxious snores from Billy.

He'd heard the faint ringing of the alarm and her wandering around upstairs. His eyes had followed the sound of her footsteps and voice across the ceiling, and he found himself wondering what she was doing, how she could be so devoted to helping other people constantly. He was well aware of her disliking for him, but still he crossed her mind. Yesterday when she had brought him the clothes, going out of her way to do so. He remembers his time in the war, and the nurses who gathered in the bar, who laughed and danced and took time for themselves. But he had seen none of that from her. It was as though she would do anything not to have that time for herself.

He recalled what Billy had said the night before once she had gone to bed, that Maggie's way of coping with the world and her own issues was to bury her head and lose herself in everyone else's.

Bucky wondered what it was that she was burying her head from. What kind of demons, a normal girl like her could have. But then when he looked at her, he couldn't help but think she was anything but normal.

He straightens his back, and rids the thoughts from his mind as he hears her coming downstairs, as though she would somehow be able to read his mind.

However he seems to startle her when she rounds the corner into the living room, her hand clasping a big black bag while the other fisted her chest,

"Jeez" She chuckles, "You made me jump."

Shaking off the moments fright, she runs her hair through her disarray of hair, noticing his bed upon the floor was untouched.

"Did I wake you?" She asks slowly moving towards the kitchen, and he shakes his head and he does say something but it is muted over an almighty snore coming from Billy.

"Jesus Christ, no wonder you can't sleep. I've finished in the bedroom if you want to go get your head down" She offers in a small voice before disappearing into the kitchen, taking the bag out to the laundry closet, emptying it and quickly closing the washer door, not wanting to make the smell linger any longer than necessary.

On returning to the kitchen, she is giving her arms a sniff realizing she needed a shower, only to be seen by the Bucky who is standing there by the open fridge door, and he seemed to be scrunching up his nose too.

'Great, he will think the smell is me' her vanity having a moments internal complaint.

"Did you need something? I can make you a drink" She offers knowing he wasn't too accustomed to… anything really.

"I can make myself a drink." His insisted has an impressive confidence as he closed the door and picks up the kettle.

"Well if that's the case, you can make me my morning coffee. Two spoons of coffee for me though, need my caffeine levels high" She informs him as she moves past him, keeping her arms tucked down feeling self-conscious as she begins to make Roberta's Porridge, and while Bucky focuses on his responsibility of making her coffee he still takes a moment to glance over to see what she is doing.

"What is that? Is that… porridge?"

"It is. Milky porridge. Roberta can't chew." She explains for the runny gloopy mosh.

"What is wrong with her" Bucky inquires.

Maggie finds the medicine cupboard and after checking Roberta's chart she begins crushing the tablets into powder form with the back of a spoon, "She has Alzheimer's, it's a form of dementia which affects your brain. As it gets worse you begin to lose mobility throughout your body, loss of speech and understanding. She's lost all her memory too. And before you ask, no I'm not poisoning her; they are vitamin's to keep her nutrients up"

At the time he had seen her crushing the tablet's he had wondered but when she spoke of the illness and at the mention of memory loss he was knitting his own brow, finding himself intrigued due to his own circumstances.

"Who did it to her?" Mid-scoop of coffee, he insists her quite strongly.

With her own brows pinched together she looks up to him, "Nobody. Oh… no it… isn't like you…" She wets her lips with her tongue, feeling that they are incredibly dry. "It's a disease. It's all very vague, not even Doctors know as much as they'd like. It eats away at the brain and the person you are. Nobody knows the cause, you just begin to lose your memory and slowly it takes claim to everything else."

"And how do we stop it?" Bucky feels a strong urge to know, and to find out as much as he can.

"You can't" She whispers, Bucky not needing to see into her eyes to know of the sadness that declares its right upon them.

"Don't say anything to Billy. He holds it together, puts on an act. But nobody can be fine when your own mother wakes up one day and doesn't recognize you, and be frightened by you." Her sentence is punctuated by the ping of the microwave.

Maggie excuses herself to head off back upstairs to feed Roberta, while Bucky is left there to reflect upon the new information about the world today. Here he was thinking he was the only person out there having had their memories taken from them. But in actual fact he was just one of many, and unlike him he was regaining his past, but from what Maggie was telling him, people like Billy's mother had no hope of regaining their memory, and not only that, it left them incapable of doing anything.

Upstairs, Maggie spoke now and again with Roberta, again masking the emotions of the truth, wondering what it must be like. To be in Roberta's or Bucky's position, both causes completely the opposite, but both as equally inconceivable. While she knew more information on Roberta's illness, she knew next to nothing on what Bucky had been though. Yes he had mentioned that they had taken his memory from him, but he didn't divulge anything else, and to that she could in some way come to understand why.

Running behind schedule once she had finished with Roberta, she only got time for a quick shower and to get dress. Towel drying her hair, she scraps it back into a usual bun and heads off downstairs.

She had forgotten that Bucky had made her a coffee, but it was awaiting her and he seemed to judge the milk quite well, and allowing it to sit actually left it just cool enough for her drink and enjoy. And she did enjoy it.

"Well well, that wasn't bad. Not bad at all. Maybe I should hire you just to supply me with coffee." Her joke is made with a musical ring created at the back of her throat.

With the mug empty and in the sink, she fixes her bag upon her shoulder ready to leave, "Oh can you remind Billy to call the community nurse when he wakes up, to tell them we won't need them anymore?" She rummages for her keys, and he nods, storing it in his memory to do as she asks.

"Okay, well… I gotta go." She steps forward and then shimmies around him, giving him a wide birth. In doing so she wrinkles her nose as he had done to her before.

Walking through the living room, and past the still snoring Billy, she feels a draw to look back that she could not ignore, and with her eyes cast behind her, her day starts off with a smile as she sees Bucky's back to her, his arm bent and stretched above his head and his head cranes down in his pit.

*T*C*

With his knowledge on how to work the shower, he was able to start it without any help from anyone else and could clean himself from any dirt or smell.

He felt comfortable this time, knowing a repeat of the day before wouldn't arise. Not that he would let it, as he dried himself off and had his new clothes with him. First of all he stood before the small clearing mirror from the condensation, raising his flesh coated hand to his cheek and the bristles that prickled his palm.

The razors, Maggie had bought him some. And when he looked into the bag there they were. He fiddles with the bag, until he gave it a good yank and it all ripped open, all the razors falling out and caught by the sink basin.

He could remember how to do this, he knew he just needed to be a little less heavy handed. And began by lathering up his face with the bar of soap, spreading it down his chin. Leaning closer into the mirror for a clearer view he raises the shaving tool to his face and pushed it against his skin and swept it down his cheek, watching it gather up the soap and hairs.

Rinsing the razor clean he strokes again, feeling the itchy sensation leaving the strip of skin and working his way down to his jaw line when he felt a twinge of something in the back of his head and neck. He pauses for a moment waiting for it to ease before returning to his shave, he had only just placed the blade back to his face when the twinge returned, only this time it felt a mini explosion within his head that stole all control over his body, his whole back raised off the floor as he lands, blood oozing from a cut on his jaw and growling through gritted teeth as the first attack in days claims him. Clashing waves and terrorized screams came washing down upon him.

*T*C*

He didn't know how long the fit and pain tore through his body, nor unconsciousness. But when he awake the whole world seems to be spinning, and his limbs of jelly attempting to raise himself from the ground. With the aid of the bath he succeeds in pulling himself up into a sitting position, ringing still in his ear.

His head falls forward heavy and ashamed, with flashes of dying eyes on a reel through his mind.

Wrenching himself away from the eyes was only achieved by opening his, a thin line of blood weaving its way like a river through bases of mountains. Anger erupted within him and his arms and leg tearing and ruining everything he could reach, as the silent racket of rage devours him.

Downstairs Billy had woke with a start of smashing and conflict. Following the noise to the top of the stairs he stood before the door, listening to the commotion inside, materialistic things far from his mind. He clasps his hand around the doorknob ready to barge on in and see what was the problem, but as he listened and the noises of violence dissolved, a single whimper of a cry, makes him turn his back. He didn't know much about people, and kept his distance from them, but he knew the pain and cry of a man shouldn't be interrupted.

*Pouts* So not the greatest of Chapter for Bucky.

I know its pretty short, but the new chapter should be along soon. I'm finishing off writing chapter 10 now and they are getting longer as it goes on.

By the way please go check out my friends Bucky/OC Fanfiction; No Longer In Shadow by FallingIntoDarkness it is awesome and she is like one of my best friends so go go! :)

So random question, If you imagine Steve and Bucky doing Karaoke, what would their song be? (I just had the giggle imagining them singing Grease's 'You're The One That I Want') - Told ya it was random.

Anyhow, hope you enjoyed.

(Oh and by the way... Thank you so much to Retainerz for adding me to your Bucky/OC community :D)

See ya soon for Chapter Seven
Danielle xx