A/N: The term "mind-rapist" is a phrase that was commonly used by me and my friends when talking about our therapists. It meant they delved unwillingly into our minds because our parents paid them to (we didn't consent to it) they got what they wanted and left us with the damage. It is used briefly in this chapter, but if it does offend/bother anyone it will be removed. (It is stated twice.)

I know I said I wouldn't mention when Kat's history with rape and sexual assault is brought up but it is really graphic here so if you have experience with this and believe you could handle brief mentions, just know that this is extremely graphic.

Bucky spent the rest of the day listening to Kat read Flowers for Algernon to him. She had offered to let him read it on his own but he saw by the way she clutched the book that she didn't want to let it out of her grasp. Besides, he liked listening to her read. She had a certain elegance in her voice that he knew wouldn't be able to even get close to while reading in his head.

He watched her as she read, the way her eyes danced happily across the page and the way her hands almost shoved the next page over, anxiously awaiting the next piece of the story. He thought she and her love for books were both beautiful.

"This is your favorite book?" He clarified.

She nodded much like a small child. "I absolutely love it."

"Why?" He tilted his head curiously.

She took a deep breath and he smiled for a fraction of a second, bracing himself for a long explanation.

"I discovered it when I was little and I just immediately connected to Charlie. He just has this innocence and honesty about him that I love and the way the author talks about other people. It's so real and honest. He doesn't have one of his characters entirely innocent. I mean even Algernon bites Charlie. He makes it so realistic but the characters so lovable that I can't help but read and reread this story."

"Can you leave it tonight?" He requested. He wanted to experience something she loved so much on his own.

She looked hesitant as she gripped the book tighter. Eventually, she sighed and nodded.

"If it's just for one night, sure. I'll try to bring more books tomorrow, okay? Until then, do you want to talk?"

He clung to the dog tags nervously. "I remembered more about what they made me do to him."

"To who? If you don't mind me asking."

"Steve."

She inhaled sharply and sat up straighter in her seat. "Do you wanna let it out? Sometimes it helps," she offered.

He took a deep breath. He didn't like thinking about it. He didn't like remembering.

"Bucky, whatever you're feeling you can trust me with. I swear that I won't hurt you and if you want I can promise that it will be just between us. I'm here to help you."

"Why don't you give up?" He wondered

"Give up on trying to help you?"

He nodded.

"Would you believe me if I said I don't believe in hopeless cases? I believe everyone has the opportunity to be happy and not hurt others. Now if they realize it or not is another question."

"What about bad people?" He asked, fiddling with his dog tags.

"They either don't realize they don't have to hurt other people, which is more common than you think or they are deliberately trying to be bad. Like a teenager deliberately trying to disobey their parents. They willfully ignore the other option."

"And you think all people are like this?"

She nodded firmly.

"What if you're wrong?"

"Well, then I'm wrong but like I said I don't think anyone is all bad. We all have the chance to lead a life which doesn't harm others."

He thought on her words. Maybe, she was right. Maybe, he wasn't all bad

She smiled. "Tell you what, if you want, tomorrow we can talk about dreams. If not I'll bring some Frank Sinatra and we can listen to that. Oh, and you'll be able to meet Rufus, my dog, so that's fun!" She rambled and he smirked.

"You like Frank Sinatra?"

"Yeah, I used to listen to him with my dad. On Saturday's we would play Saturday Night Is The Loneliest Night of The Week . Corny I know."

"I think-," he hesitated and she raised an eyebrow. "Never mind," he shook his head.

"Okay, that's fine. Let's just keep reading, yeah? Unless you're ready to talk?"

He shook his head while a part of him screamed out the opposite. He wanted to get this shit out of his mind but he still worried that if he expressed this from his point of view she would run and hide from him like he was some monster from a horror film. His mind was at war about what he should tell her. He trusted her, he just didn't know if he could be so sure that she wouldn't think he's some sort of sick psychopath.

She smiled. "That's okay."

"Shoot me in the fucking face!" Kat cried.

"What's going on now?" Sam said, leaning against her door frame.

She chewed her lip desperately with two sets of books in her hands. "What books would he like?"

Sam chuckled. "I don't know. You'd have to ask Steve that kind of stuff. Why do you care what he thinks of it?"

"I have To Kill A Mockingbird which he might not like but then again he likes Lovecraft so maybe," she continued, ignoring him. "Rosemary's Baby is definitely a no. When the hell did I even get this? Oh my God, In Cold Blood is golden! Maybe, I should stay away from murder though. Well, that cuts down my collection by a lot. Maybe, I should just stick with Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. Where the Wild Things Are too. I like that one." She sat up with a sigh. "Oh, hey Sam."

He rolled his eyes and picked up the dog cage. "Are you ready?"

She was about to nod when her eyes widened. "Wait, the Sinatra!" She shouted, bolting back to her room.

"I feel bad having Rufus in a cage. He looks so sad. He's hardly ever in his cage at home."

"Yeah, well last time he was in my car he crapped on half the seats. He can stay in the cage."

She rolled her eyes. "If we were cops you would be the bad one."

"I had to clean that shit up for a week!"

"Just Google how to get out dog poop. Jeez, Sam."

"Yeah, okay, the girl who lives in the mid-1900's is gonna tell me to use Google. You don't even own a computer!"

She grinned. "Don't feel the need for one."

He rolled his eyes. "Are you gonna tell me what that was about back there?"

"What?" She asked softly. He looked over and saw she was staring out the window seeming in a happy daze with everything she saw.

"You spent a good five minutes trying to make sure you had the perfect book for him. And now you're tracing shit on my window."

She frowned. "Is that?" She seemed to lean out of her seat as though she were watching a movie with a really good cliffhanger. Then, she leaned back, disappointed. "No, it's not."

"Oh my God, you're in love with him," Sam almost laughed.

"Shut up."

"Sweet little Katty is in love with the soldier," he hummed. "What is it you have with soldiers? Is it a fetish?"

"Oh, God this is like my first boyfriend all over again," she moaned.

"I'm never letting this go. I knew you had a crush on him because you thought he was hot. But you actually love him. Why-?"

"He's sweet to me okay?! He's funny and yes he made fun of my social life but I do that all the time, and I dunno he has all the same interests as me. I never thought he would if I'm honest."

He laughed. "I'll keep your secret. I always do."

"Thank you."

Bucky actually missed her. That was new. He missed her contagious laughter. He missed the way she read to him. He missed the way she looked at him like he wasn't a monster.

He had another nightmare last night. He had decided today was the day he was finally going to tell her.

He just hoped he wasn't making a mistake.

He heard the door open and for a split second, he thought it was her until he saw the eyes of the person who walked in. He looked down in defeat. It was just another medic.

He liked the way she knew the bad side of him and saw past it.

He was starting to become anxious. He couldn't like her in that way. Emotions were dangerous.

Besides, who could ever love him?

"It's just a dog it's not a fucking terrorist!" She screamed.

"Ma'am we just need to make sure you're not trying any funny business," the guard assured her.

She placed her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes at the guard. "How stupid are you?"

"For God sakes just let the girl in before she kills you," Tony crowed.

"But-," the guard looked down at Rufus.

"Congratulations, you just became the stupidest person I have ever met. Quite a feat as I have met someone who thought glue was a snack. In tenth grade."

The man flushed and she walked past, toting the golden retriever in her arms proudly.

"Well, that was the most pointless twenty minutes of my life. Here, Rufus, you have your freedom," she unhooked the leash and the dog ran straight into Bucky arms as Bucky laughed.

"Typical. He likes other men more than me," she sighed and took her hat off, shaking the hair that she had slightly curled this morning because she didn't feel like actually working with it. "His name is Rufus," she told Bucky as she sat down.

"Hey, Rufus," he whispered as the dog happily licked his face.

Kat usually hated the way her dog preferred everyone over her (I mean come on you get a dog and it loves everyone more than you?) but watching Bucky interact with the dog shoe couldn't help but giggle. It was like a small puppy interacting with an even bigger puppy.

It was one of the most adorable things she had seen.

She shook her head. Shit. She was falling hard.

"I've been thinking," Bucky announced, still petting Rufus.

"Oh?" Kat raised an eyebrow. She had long since retired to her cot in the room. Bucky had been playing with Rufus for about an hour.

"I think I wanna talk about my dreams."

"Oh, okay," she tried not to sound too excited. This was a big step, but she didn't want to freak Bucky out over it. She walked over to him and sat in the chair beside him.

"But, I-I don't-"

"Would it help if I told you about some of my dreams too? Maybe, make it easier if it's not just you?"

"Yeah, that might work."

She nodded.

He took a deep breath. "So, I'm in this chair they use to wipe my memory and these guys are repairing my arm after a mission, but I start remembering Steve and I remember being friends with him right after they sent me to try and kill him. I get angry, really angry, and I push a guy across the room into a wall. He doesn't get back up. Then this guy enters. Pierce with Rumlow and a couple of other men. He tells me what I'm doing is good even though I feel like a monster. I try to tell him I new Steve but he hits me and the dream ends with me getting electrocuted and my memory wiped again."

She stared at him sadly. Not in pity or anything he didn't want but just simple sadness.

She looked at the door and at the camera in the room. It didn't record audio at her request. If it was really important, they could ask Friday for the records. She wanted their conversations to be private.

"Nobody else knows this except Sam and I'm guessing Natasha and Tony." Nat seemed the type to have experienced what she experienced and she knew Tony would have gone through all her records by now. He didn't seem like he trusted easily. "When I was thirteen, I met this guy named Robert. I had a huge crush on him and I dreamed of one day running away and marrying him. He was thirty-six. It was just kid stuff. Dreaming of the older guy falling for you. But one day he told me he knew how I felt and he felt the same."

Bucky immediately grew concerned. No guy approaches a thirteen-year-old girl and talks to her like he wants to go out sometime. Kat almost instantaneously read his expression and nodded.

"Yeah, no, it was sick, but back then I thought I was so fucking cool. An older guy liked me. The girl with the messy brown hair who was shorter than all her classmates and had the odd pimple coming in weird spots like on my ear or something. But he promised me he liked me. One day, he even asked my mom if he could watch me while she was at work. Since he was my dad's boss she said yes. That night he said he was going to teach me 'grown-up things' and raped me. He kept doing that for six months, telling me that if I loved him I would do it. He gave me all sorts of bruises when I couldn't make him cum. Scars that I still have today."

She turned around and lifted up the back of her sweatshirt. There as an ugly bruise there that was all sorts of purple and black. "He fractured my tailbone. I never went to the hospital. Couldn't sit for weeks at school."

Bucky was disgusted. "You don't touch a woman like that," he spat.

"Yeah, well, he died in prison and I learned he didn't actually love me around then." She scoffed. "I told him all my deepest darkest feelings and emotions and he hurt me."

"How do you learn to trust again?" Bucky wondered.

She sighed. "It was like four years before I met someone new. He understood my past and was really kind and slow with me. He showed me that not everyone is not an asshole and that there is some good in the world."

That's why she was so good to me. That's why she still had hope , Bucky thought.

"What happened to him?" Bucky wondered. Obviously, they weren't still together. He could tell because she used past tense when talking about him.

She inhaled sharply and looked away, her lower lip trembling as she focused on the wall.

Bucky automatically felt like an ass. She treats you so nicely and you talk about her dead ex-boyfriend? Nice. His own mind spat at him.

"I'm sorry," he scrambled.

"I-It's fine. He went away and he promised he wouldn't. He got on a stupid plane and never came back. It's not his fault. I shouldn't blame him. A plane crashes it's not his fault, right? It's just sometimes," she hesitated. "Sometimes I wish he took me with him."

"I'm sorry," he repeated.

"It's okay. It's not your fault either. Life just sometimes sucks, but sometimes it's good too. It's always a surprise."

"I thought I was the only one who felt like this," Bucky admitted.

She smiled. "You're not alone, Buck. You're not alone."

"You know sometimes I think you're out to get me," Kat sighed as she hopped up onto the sidewalk arm in arm with Sam.

He barked out a laugh. "What because I'm making you see your therapist?"

"Yes! When we were little we used to call my therapist my mind rapist remember?" She grinned.

"Yeah, and now I'm forcing you to go see the mind rapist. Oh, how the times have changed," he chuckled.

"You said it not me."

She walked into the pristine offices with Sam who checked her in and Dr. Cartel walked out with her stringy blonde hair, makeup that looked like it was put on in the dark, and thin-lipped smile.

"Ah, Kathy!" She exclaimed, holding her arms out for a hug. Kat just stared at her blankly and she heard Sam laughed from the front desk. "Yes, I see things are still how we left them." She cleared her throat. "Shall we?"

Kat rolled her eyes and started walking towards the office, but not before flipping Sam off as she went.

When she got into the room that looked more like what she pictured Dr. Cartel's living room looked like rather than an actual therapist's office.

It had one of those noisy water flowing statues that Kat thought was supposed to calm her but really just made her have to pee. There were a couple sad looking house plants that appeared to be crying for Kat to save them from their eternal hell.

On the walls were various degrees and pictures of Dr. Cartel with people she thought were impressive but were really just very low ranking government officials that held next to no power in a court of law. She also had one picture with her town sheriff up as if getting a picture with him was an amazing feat.

In the center of it all was a velvet sofa and a hard chair with a small table beside it.

The sofa was the only good part of the whole room.

Kat sighed as she lied back on the sofa.

"So, Katherine Elizabeth Hastings, how are we feeling today?"

Kat rolled her eyes. "Fine."

"Just fine?"

"Yes, just fine."

"The anniversary of Robert's death has recently passed. Did you burn the pictures of you with him like I asked?"

"Yes."

"How did it feel?"

"Relaxing. To see the fire eat up his face was relaxing."

Dr. Cartel jotted down a note. "Sam tells me you have a new job."

"Oh, does he now?" Kat raised an eyebrow, making a mental note to kill Sam later.

"Yes. He says that you'll be working with a man you've had a crush on for quite some time."

"Oh, of course, he does."

"Well? How are you feeling about this man?"

"Thanks, Doc, but I don't really have it in me for the girl talk. Besides, I'm paying you to treat me not be my gal pal, ain't I?" Kat rolled her eyes.

"I'm simply asking because your last two relationships have not ended well and perhaps this presents a new opportunity for you."

"My last two relationships ended with Jason dying in a plane crash, and me breaking up with Sam because I can't have kids. I'd say that pretty much has me set for failure what about you?"

"Sam still doesn't know the real reason you broke up with him," Dr. Cartel stated. "He says something about music?"

"Yeah, and he'll never know. I liked him. I really did. Safe to say I was ready to get married to him, and you know how I hate marriage. It's just a piece of paper to me, but I was willing to do it for him. Until I found out I can't give him kids. The one thing he wants more than anything."

"You have a disorder in your ovaries, Kathy, it's not your fault."

"Yeah, well it kinda feels like it. If I can't have kids that are my own shouldn't I be with someone who has the same problem?"

"This man that you're treating. Is he infertile as well?"

Kat thought back to the Hydra records. They explicitly stated they sterilized him before sending him out on missions. One less thing to worry about. She thought it was disgusting to do that to a human being who is born with the ability to make tiny versions of them as well as the person they loved most in this world. To just rip away a future family like that. She had no choice but he did and he got it taken away.

"Yes," she whispered and Dr. Cartel smiled.

"Then it seems as though this crush has some hope."

"But my track record and the fact that he's my patient are kind of against me."

"Sam says the place you work in is very kind. They may not care. And you cannot allow your past to control your future."

"Yeah, just without kids."

Robert loomed over her broken body with a sick twisted grin.

"Please, I can't take anymore," she pleaded.

"Don't you love me? If you love me you'll want to continue."

She nodded. "I love you but it hurts. It hurts so much. I don't think I can take anymore."

"Then, you don't love me," he grabbed her long hair which as an adult she would forever wear short. He positioned her face right in front of his crotch. "Now do as I say, and if I don't cum in your mouth then obviously you don't want me to care about you. Got that?"

She nodded shakily. Anything to stop the pain.

Suddenly there was a flash and she was in her living room, watching the news about flight 416 crashing and burning to ashes. No survivors.

She paced the house with a beer in her hand. She was eighteen. That was the only time she drank.

Sam called her to send his condolences. She refused to believe it was his flight.

At the funeral, she knew they had the wrong guy. He probably ran late for his flight and missed it. He was always doing stupid shit like forgetting his keys or the right pair of socks.

It wasn't him.

There's another flash and she's sitting in a doctor's office being told there's no way she can have her own kids.

She'd had unprotected sex with Sam three times and no sign of pregnancy. She lied and told him she was on the pill.

She lied again breaking up with him. Saying her roots in music are more important than some guy.

She had to give him up. He wanted kids. He always wanted kids ever since he was a kid, and she can't have them.

She woke up screaming. It took her a moment to realize where she was as she felt the cot around her and held her chest as she realized where she was.

Then she burst into tears.

Bucky was startled by what he saw. He was unsure of what to do. He thought at first about turning away and giving her some privacy when he knew she wouldn't want that.

What would someone do out of kindness? Out of love?

He got up out of bed and slowly walked over to her. A million different scenarios crashing through his mind as he did so, the most prevalent being her pushing him away and caving back into her own comfort.

Regardless, he sat down on the cot and tentatively wrapped his left arm around her.

She froze momentarily and started breathing heavily and he worried he had screwed up when she moved closer to him and rested her head on his bare chest.

He let out a sigh of relief and wrapped his arms around her, running his fingers through her hair slowly as she sobbed onto his chest, wrapping her own arms around his abdomen.