'Jaylin!' A panicked exclamation woke me up. When I first came to I was disoriented; I was low, near the ground, huddled up against another human being. It couldn't be dad, because he was the one calling for me. Sam, then? No, not likely either: dad would never sound so fearful if his best friend was near me. At least, not the unbrainwashed one…
All this took place within a second of opening my eyes. Shortly thereafter, I realised I hadn't been woken up by the sound, but by Bucky's startled reaction to someone opening the door.

Only when I tried to get up, I noticed the hand curled around my arm. I looked up to Bucky to tell him it was okay, that my dad wasn't a threat, but I noticed his expression wasn't one of fear, instead one of deep concentration and frustration. He had probably grabbed me protectively the moment dad had opened the door and hadn't let go since.
'Jaylin?' There was slightly less fear in his voice now I had answered.
'It's okay, I'm okay dad,' I called through the darkness, which was abruptly replaced by blazing light. Instantly my eyes were closed shut. Through squinted eyes I saw Bucky was still intensely focused on the figure in the doorway. 'Uhm… Bucky…?' The soldier tore his attention away from my father. 'Yeah, hey… Could you, maybe, let go of me?'
Confused, Bucky looked down. He registered his hand around my arm and immediately let go. 'Sorry…'
'It's okay,' I smiled. 'Thank you for… last night.'
He nodded, not meeting my eyes. There was nervousness and embarrassment in his body language, but no longer fear. The best thing, however, was that he was speaking – in English, no less. To reassure him I briefly took his left hand and gave it a little squeeze which didn't really work, except that his eyes briefly found me again. Then I pushed myself off the floor. Behind me I heard Bucky stand up as well as I crossed the room. Dad was still standing in the doorway, frozen in something not describable as fear, but more as a total lack of knowledge of what to do with the situation.
'It's okay dad, I'm okay.'
Dad scanned me, checking for any sign I was lying. Then he stepped forwards, surprising me with a tight hug. 'Dad, wha-' The sentence never got finished because I realised he'd probably found my bed empty, reminding him of the time I wasn't here.
'What is this place?' he asked after he'd let me go and curiously examined the virtual "decoration" of the room.
That's right; dad had never seen this place. No one had. 'My cell when Bucky patched me up.' Unconsciously, my hand felt my stomach and encountered the rough scar underneath the fabric of my pyjama's.
'Oh…' He kept his eyes glued to the room. Every part of it, except for the corner Bucky was still standing, awkwardly trying to blend in with the fake concrete.
I moved a few feet, bend down, and picked up the tablet. With one click, the white reappeared. A weight fell off my shoulders. 'Why don't we take Bucky to the kitchen so we all can have some breakfast?' I suggested. Bucky rose his head when I called his name and seemed to instantly regret it.
'I-' dad stared conflicted at the middle pod's blinking light. He looked up startled when I put my hand on his arm.
'I think it's okay. I got through to him, to Bucky. It was only the fear that made him a bad listener.'
Dad shook his head, his eyes swirling to his old friend for a split second. 'I guess it does. Maybe it's something we picked up during the war.'

Thus, I looked back over at Bucky, smiled carefully and gestured with my head towards the door. 'You commin'?'
Without looking at my father, and while keeping his head low, he shrugged.
'Great. Let's go!' Exaggeratedly happy I took dad's hand and tugged at him until he left for the kitchen; this way, I hoped to give Bucky some space, which he obviously needed.

Thankfully, Bucky followed, though he moved at a slightly slower speed than I knew him capable of. In the meantime, it gave me time to think of what to eat for breakfast. I decided on something traditional; bacon, toast, scrambled eggs and coffee. Well, orange juice for me; I wasn't really a coffee person.
I was already busy cracking eggs when the former prisoner appeared in the doorway. He wavered a little and then moved to the table, where he sat down on the opposite side of dad, without ever meeting his eye. He brought along a tense silence.
After a while dad cleared his throat. 'Can I help you, Jay?'
'Sure.' I told him he could do prepare the bacon. Within no time, thin strips of pork were sizzling in a pan. The smell of baking meat filled the kitchen, chasing away some of the suspense the quietness had brought.
It didn't take long until there were six plates filled with delicious, warm foods, and our little group was completed when Sam, Natasha and Tony joined us around the dinner table. Bucky didn't look at any of them, so I decided to take the seat closest to them, sensing I was the one Bucky felt most comfortable around.
Thankfully, the team decided to make it as easy as possible for Bucky, asking no questions or directing any attention to the new member. Instead, they started a conversation which kept them busy for the entire duration of breakfast. Meanwhile, my brains were working themselves numb to find a conversation starter; alas, even the weather was a no-go, since both of us hadn't really gone out much lately. So I decided to keep my mouth shut, mindlessly shoving egg into my mouth while regularly glancing aside. Bucky pushed his food around on his plate, taking a couple bites, but lacking appetite.
Afterwards, Sam offered to do the dishes and asked dad to help him. I took it upon myself to bring Bucky to one of the empty rooms available in the tower and told him to wait, so I could get him some fresh clothes.

When I returned, Bucky was sitting on the bed, staring at the wall opposite.
'Here,' I said softly, laying down the stack of clothes beside him. 'These are my dad's. I thought, he's so big, anyone can fit into his clothes, right?'
To my great satisfaction, it earned me the tiniest of slightly reluctant smiles, overpowering some of the confusion and sadness. 'Thank you.'
I dipped my head. 'You're welcome.'
Then there was silence. What else was there to say? At that moment there was too much chaos in my head; I had gotten Bucky to free himself from the Winter Soldier - or at least for a big part -, but I didn't know whether or not he was my father's Bucky, or the guy I'd gotten to know, or somebody totally different. And if I didn't know who I was talking to, how was I supposed to know what to say?
Briefly, I put my hand on his muscular shoulder. 'It's gonne be fine,' I uttered hastily, more to myself than anybody else, before I left him alone, so both of us could sort out our minds.
Though despite that chaos, my lips curled up into the slightest of grins; we'd made progress. He was eating, talking, and he seemed aware of who I was and how he knew me. I only had to keep him moving forwards, then everything would indeed be alright.