One. Two. Three. Four. Five.

Counting is stupid.

Six. Seven.

How does this help people fall asleep?

Eight. Nine.

Will anyone eat a late night brinner if a late night brinner is made?

Ten.

Ana sighs audibly. She has been trying to fall asleep for the past hour, but her mind hasn't shut off. She feels antsy, a nervous energy buzzing at her skin and she has no idea why. Her usual tea time talking session with Wanda was great, mainly chatting about if Wanda should change her hair color. Or if that guy at the local bakery Ana has connections with has asked Ana out yet. He hasn't. Ana isn't even sure if she would say yes.

Probably not since she doesn't really have the time to date. Plus, the guy's eyes don't shine like sapphires in the sun since his are green and not the deep blue she's becoming very fond of. Ana shook her head and ignored that thought. Blue eyes have always been a thing for her, so it's not a big deal. Steve has blue eyes. So, does Thor, and Max, and Clint, though she swears his eyes turn green at times. Her point being, blue eyes are common and it's not a big deal.

So, their talk went fine. No nightmares haunting Wanda, no feelings of regret. In fact, she has been feeling really good the past few weeks. Even the last mission her, Natasha and Clint were called on went smoothly. Steve's PTSD has dwindled down, and he swears it's because Ana and Sam have helped him through it over the years. Having Bucky around has been better for the Captain, and vice versa for Bucky in a way.

When Ana recounts the events of the day, all she can think about is Bucky's first official Deprogramming Session. Ana herself was a little nervous, mainly because there is a lot riding on her shoulders with it. She was frustrated with people's impatience, but she knew she couldn't hold it off forever. She just wanted Bucky to feel like he was ready to try it. It went as smooth as it could go, and Ana couldn't help the little swell of pride she had after they finished. The look of utter trust in his eyes meant the world to her.

The session went great. So, it just has to be pent up, nervous energy that's keeping her from sleep. Maybe she accidentally took on other the agents feelings. Ana isn't stupid. She sees the way some of them look at her; as if they detest her for being handed this task personally by Captain America. She knows the agents in the Psychological and Physiological Research Department might be a little jealous that Nick Fury was the one to give her the higher authority over them.

Ana knows some of the are jealous, some might feel threatened, some might even want to see her fail. Which is absolutely horrible and selfish because they aren't thinking of the most important issue here. It's healing Bucky Barnes, curing him of HYDRA's deprogramming. Instead, everyone just wants to climb up on the latter rather than genuinely help a good-heart person who has had the worst fucking cards forced on him.

Maybe it is that. Sometimes Ana can't control her empathy, and she picks up on the emotions around her. It has been making her blood buzz, her skin prickle. Ana sits up because she can no longer pretend that sleep is coming any time soon. She listens to the rain pound against the roof, and knows that her quiet place is not an option for tonight. She doesn't feel like watching a movie, or binge watching a show.

Instead, Ana gets off her bed, going to her dresser to grab workout clothes. It's been a while since she fully worked out, and her weekly, one-hour boxing session hasn't been enough. She slips on a pair of silver workout pants and pulls a strappy back sports bra over her chest. After she finds the right shoes, she throws her long hair up in a ponytail and quietly leaves her room.

It's just passed midnight, and sometimes people mull about the living facility, but that's not the case tonight. The gloomy weather must make everyone more tired than usual, which means Ana might even have the gym to herself. She grabs a water bottle from the refrigerator, then heads down to the gym. Just as Ana suspected, the gym is empty.

She has her pick of any machine or free weights she wants, so she takes a moment to decided. She can't just jump into lifting weights, which makes her choose the elliptical first. She picks the first one in the row of five, placing her bottle in the cup holder. She realizes she needs a towel, turning to get one from the cabinets. There are none. Which means no one has gotten around to restocking them. Ana goes to the women's locker room instead. She finds two spare towels by the changing rooms. She grabs them and exits the room.

The second she passes by the men's locker room, Ana crashes into a hard body. She stumbles back, dropping the towels, her hand flying to her chest. Her heart feels like it lodged itself in her throat, and it takes a few moments for Ana to know that she isn't in danger. That she just literally ran into a person when she thought the gym was otherwise unoccupied.

"Fuck."

The curse is hissed out at the same time.

"You scared the shit out of me." Ana breathes, grabbing Bucky's arm for support. That was so unexpected.

Bucky wraps his fingers around her elbow to steady her. "You did too. You're so fucking quiet!"

"Oh, my God, my heart won't stop pounding."

Bucky rolls his eyes. "What did you think I was?"

Ana ignores the question. "How did I even scare you? Don't you have, like, supersonic hearing or something? Super menacing soldier and all. God, I think I'm having a heart attack."

"I think you're just a little dramatic, darling."

Ana releases his arm in favor of bending down to pick up the two towels.

"Nice outfit." Bucky states, a hint of mirth in his tone.

Slowly, Ana straightens. Completely forgetting she's wearing a sports bra and no shirt, the band of her pants starting below her navel. She eyes Bucky, his outfit isn't any better. While he isn't shirtless, he might as well be. The tank top he has on is gray and very fitting, damp with sweat and clinging to each defined muscle of his torso like glue. She can clearly count six abs, his thick pectoral muscles almost stretching the material of the thin shirt. His shoulders board and leading to his biceps, bulging as he crosses his arms.

Briefly, Ana wonders how it's fair that even his prosthetic arm can still match the defined size of his right arm. Even his goddamn sweat pants look a little tighter than usual. His thighs thick and solid under the black material. Despite his comment, there's a pink tint to his cheeks, and his eyes stay determinedly locked on Ana's.

"Tell me, how hasn't your shirt ripped yet? Did you borrow that from Sam?" Ana quips.

Bucky licks his bottom lip and Ana has to pull her eyes away from the movement. "Why are you working out so late?" He chooses to ask instead.

"Pent up energy." She shrugs, walking past him back to the machine. "You?"

Bucky doesn't say anything, just follows her until she steps onto the elliptical. He wraps both hands around the support bar as Ana punches in her cardio settings. She finally looks at him, his eyebrows pinched forward slightly.

"Another nightmare?" Ana inquires.

"No." He answers, shaking his head. "I was just up writing things down. Then I keep thinking about the session today. I felt like I couldn't sleep so I came here." He looks over his shoulder briefly. "Think I stole your punching bag."

Ana follows his gaze, and she glares at the bag with hot pink athletic tape. The tape spells out: Feisty Cuffs

"Hawkeye thinks he's funny." She says flatly.

"I might have knocked it down…twice."

"Really went for it, huh?"

Bucky turns his attention back to her. "Sorry."

"Don't worry about it. Are you done with training?"

He hesitates. "No." He drawls out.

Ana chuckles. "Yes, you are. It's alright, Bucky. If you're tired, you should sleep. It seems to be a rarity with you."

"But you just got here."

"You don't have to stay. I'm a big girl, I can handle the spooky gym at night."

"I like talking to you." Bucky confesses quietly. He sounds shy.

"You do?" She can feel a small smile spread across her mouth.

"I really enjoy our talks. I think you really help me sort through this chaotic mess." He taps his temple with his metal fingers.

Ana reaches out, grabbing his wrist. "Stop doing that." She reprimands. "You'll hurt yourself."

"Not likely."

Ana gives him a look.

"Fine. I'll stop."

"Thank you. Do you want to talk now? I don't have to do this. I only came here because I wanted to burn energy."

Bucky looks as if he is considering it. "You don't have to. You're always doing things for me, Ana. Don't forget to do things for yourself."

"Bucky." Ana smiles at his kindness. "It's past midnight, I do not need to workout right this instant. I really enjoy our talks too, I don't mind. Plus, I do plenty of things for myself, you just don't see them."

"Like getting tattoos?" He inquires curiously.

He reaches out, tentatively pressing his thumb two inches under the band of her sports bra. His touch makes Ana startle, warm goosebumps breaking out all over her skin. Ana doesn't really know when or how it happened, but their personal boundaries have shattered. She doesn't think she minds all that much. Ana looks down at the two lines of elegant script inked along her right set of ribs.

"Spanish, right?" Bucky says, quickly pulling his thumb away from her skin.

"Yes." Ana answers, "how many languages do you speak?"

"Seven…and a half."

Ana laughs. "A half?"

"I can understand French, but I'm not very good at speaking it yet."

Ana smirks mischievously. "Voulez vous coucher avec moi ce soir?"

Just as she expected, Bucky freezes. His blue eyes widen, then his mouth drops open and a blush creeps over his face. Ana bursts out laughing, nearly falling off the elliptical she's still standing on. She bends over the bar, her laugh echoing loudly throughout the empty space.

"Oh, my God." He breathes out, dumbfounded.

"I'm- oh, my God, your face!" Ana has tears in her eyes. "It's…fuck. It's a song!"

Bucky relaxes, rolling his eyes. "Of course, it is. You little shit."

His response makes Ana laugh even harder, and Bucky ends up having to catch her so she doesn't face plant into the floor.

"Familia donde la vida comienza y el amor nunca termina." Ana speaks, the language flowing fluently from her lips. "'Family where life begins and love never ends'. It's a family phrase."

It took ten minutes for Ana to finally cease all laughter. Bucky had guided her off the machine, sitting her down on the mat between the punching bags. Bucky quickly ran to the men's locker room, having come back with a small leather notebook. It's how they ended up sitting cross legged opposite each other, with Ana explaining her tattoo.

"The one on your foot?" Bucky asks, nudging her right shoe with his pencil.

"Veni, Vidi, Vici'. I came, I saw, I conquered."

"The lotus flower?"

Ana smiles. "Lotus flowers are known for growing in muddy conditions. Here's this little flower that defies all odds by growing and thriving in a place where it's dark, cold, and murky. Where no one would expect for this beautiful thing to grow, to survive, to live. In some cultures, it symbolizes purity. Purity of speech, the body and the mind."

Bucky returns the smile, soft, kind. As if he doesn't mind listening to her talk about something important. Then his eyebrows twitch down. "What's happened in your life to make you get them?"

The question only catches her off guard by a little. She had been waiting, almost expecting for Bucky to finally inquire more about her life. She hasn't kept it hidden from him, they just tend to talk about him more often than not. The important thing is Bucky and his healing process. Ana goes to push her fingers through her hair, only to remember her hair is up in a ponytail. Instead, she traces her fingertips along her collarbones, tapping her thumb twice against the left bone.

"Personal loss." She answers softly.

Running his thumb along the worn pages of his notebook, Bucky drops his eyes briefly. He opens the notebook to a certain page, keeping his thumb against the binding to keep it open. He looks back up at her.

"Family?" He questions just as quiet. Ana nods. "I'm sorry."

"I appreciate it, but don't be. It was a while ago." Ana shrugs, though it doesn't stop the dull ache in her chest. "Parents, brother."

A sad expression crosses Bucky's face, turning his eyes darker. Ana just observes him as realization slowly comes over him. Realization that despite her positive demeanor all the time, she does have some darkness in her life. Everyone does.

Ana nudges his knee. "C'mon, Winter Bunny, what's the look for?"

Bucky frowns. "Are you…have you been alone in your life?"

Ana's response is to deny that quickly, but the distant look in Bucky's stormy blue eyes makes her swallow her words. He looks like he's getting lost in a faded, fragmented memory, or memories. Belatedly, it clicks in her brains Bucky isn't asking if she is physically alone, he was asking if she is lonely. If she has ever felt lonely in her life.

Sitting two feet across from her is the epitome of loneliness. Bucky may be a super soldier just over one hundred years old. He may have been surrounded by people, albeit horrendous, soulless disgusting people, for seventy years. However, Bucky Barnes has been alone for seven decades in his mind. In his heart. He has been lonely. Not knowing what was real, what was right or forced into his mind. Ana's heart begins to ache differently.

She answers him honestly. "At times, yes. When someone you have constantly in your life is suddenly gone, all you feel is lonely. I would lay there at night, nothing but the silence to keep you company. It was crippling sometimes."

Bucky huffs out through his nose. "I know that feeling." He hands over his small notebook to the open page.

Ana takes it, their fingers brushing together. She keeps her eyes on Bucky as long as she can. He nods encouragingly; he is willing showing her something no one else knows. The meaning is heavy, full of genuine trust. It settles comfortably between them.

Brother.

The word is scribbled in the middle of the page. Ana looks up quickly, but Bucky is staring down at his hands, wringing them together. Her eyes fall back down to the page.

I had a family. I was the oldest child.

Where are they? Gone.

There's nothing else written on the two pages, so Ana slowly turns to the previous page. Bucky doesn't protest, but he does inch forward until their knees are touching. The next page has more words, more phrases. Some underlined, some ending with question marks.

Who am I?

What is my name?

Winter So

Smithsonian- James Buchanan Barnes. Sergeant Barnes? 107th.

My name is Bucky.

Howling Commandos. Steve Rodgers?

Bucky Barnes.

"Is this-?" Ana starts to say.

"I started writing all my thoughts, anything I started to remember, down in these notebooks. That's why I carried that backpack around. It's mainly filled with journals, and notebooks. I didn't want to forget anything again."

"You know you don't have to show me this, right?" She looks up at him once more

"I know. I want to." The sincerity in his voice makes her heart swell. Bucky reaches out to take her hand. "I trust you, Ana. In case you didn't already know."

Ana chuckles. She closes the notebook, pressing it into his hand. "Thank you for showing me. I trust you too, Bucky. Whether you like it or not. I trust you."