Disclaimer: I don't own anything Marvel, I just own Anna.

Chapter 36

She Used to be Mine

Having the ability to walk taken away and then bestowed upon her again made Anna realize that her mobility wasn't something to be taken for granted. Instead of taking a taxi or having Tony's car service being her back to the tower from her physical therapy appointment, Anna took her time and walked back to the Tower. She didn't want to take walking for granted again.

Typically, Anna had her appointments as late in the evening as she could get them. That way, as she walked home, there were less people on the street. She wouldn't have to worry about someone bumping into her as much. Plus, she found that it was just so peaceful to walk on her own.

It was nice to have just a fraction of a moment to herself.

Of all the dumb things Bucky could be doing, this was one of the dumbest.

But there was something about her that he couldn't just let left unsupervised.

The way that she had reacted to him when she was trying to stop him not so long ago was so new to him. Sure, the Captain kept saying he knew him, and that he could finish his job if he needed, but this girl, practically still a child, had said it was okay. Like she wasn't even upset about the fact that he was going to kill her.

She wore that necklace too. At the time, he knew something about it was familiar, even though the feeling of familiarity was tragically unfamiliar to him. That was the reason why he stole the necklace, and the ring. It wasn't until much later when he was staying in some extremely run down motel with no security cameras somewhere in Alexandria that he opened the locket to find the photos of someone greatly resembling himself, and her. With the destible wedding rings one the very same chain, what else was Bucky lead to believe that he had somehow married her?

Since the Captain new him, he decided to go to the museum to find out more. Which, of course, was where he found out his past. The whole thing. Everything from fighting in World War II, to "dying" while in service. The only thing missing was her.

There was absolutely no information anywhere in that museum, or any of the others (because the second he found out she wasn't anywhere in that exhibit, he wanted to be thorough and check every building of the Smithsonian) for that matter. There was no record of her there. So why was there this feeling of knowing her so deeply?

It bothered him. He knew the gist of the relationship with the Captain, but this girl, this pretty little girl with big eyes and a frustrating smirk was a mystery. There was something about her that, despite every instinct (except one) within his highly trained being that needed to be there, to follow her and figure out the hold she had over him.

That was how he found himself following her back from her physical therapy appointment that evening. He found it incredibly stupid that she was walking about so freely. There was so much that could go wrong, especially with so many Hydra goons that were still out and about, freely roaming and wanting to continue the mission.

But he wasn't there to protect her. No, that wasn't it. Bucky was just there to solve the mystery. In theory, the longer he remained out of cryo, his memories would start to come back on their own. And though he wasn't completely sure who she was, he did know he knew her. And the more he watched her, the more he felt like he was about to discover something remarkable.

The discovery that he wanted did not, however, involve the girl getting kidnapped. As he followed a block behind, before he could do anything too remarkable, a van pulled up next to her as she waited to cross the street. It was just like a typical planned kidnapping scene. They opened the door, two guys jumped out and grabbed her. They pulled her in and in a matter of thirty seconds, they were gone. Had she been in a better physical state, the chances of her getting taken were slim to none.

Whoever this was knew exactly the state the girl was in and was taking it to their advantage. And since Bucky was laying low, it wasn't like he could just run right up to the van and pull it to a stop, which he could physically do, but that would draw far too much attention. He'd hardly have enough time to run off and secure a safe location where there was no possibility of being discovered. There were far too many cameras in New York City.

He was simply left to tail them and wait for the opportune moment.

It shouldn't have been surprising that enemies she's made through her lifelong career as a spy that they would, upon the leak of her true identity, go after her for revenge. What was most surprising to Anna though, wasn't who had taken her, it was who actually turned up for the spectacle.

In good ol' evil villain fashion, the head honcho (or close enough) turned up to give a personal speech as to what their grand scheme was. It was incredibly stupid, of course. But it was prefered so she could figure out a plan to escape. After having been beaten by Vladimir for quite some time, Yassa came out to finally address Anna on why the Bratva had taken her - though it wasn't hard to guess.

Yassa didn't look much different than he had the last time she'd seen him. He was still young, he was still pretty. Pretty, not handsome. It was an effect of his modeling life, and never having to do anything physical with his life.

He looked utterly broken and furious at her. Anna couldn't exactly blame him. He'd betrayed by the one person he "claimed" to truly love. He gave away Bratva secrets because he had trusted her.

"I do not understand…" he said, his back to her.

There wasn't much to understand. It was pretty straight forward. "Your problem is that you see, Yassa, but you don't observe. The signs might have been there the whole time, but you're too worried about finding someone that made you feel better about all the stuff you let happen so you can have the lifestyle you want; to please your dad."

"I trusted you! How could you do that to me? I loved you."

"Your trust was misplaced," Anna said. "I'm a soldier, and that means it doesn't matter what happens to me, as long as the job gets done."

"What? Do you think you' are some hero? Like your Avengers?"

"I may be on the side of the angels, but don't mistake me for one. I'm not. Yassa, all hearts break. You just need to move forward and forget."

I do not understand. You were sweet, and kind, and smart. You were so warm. How could all that be fake?"

"Maybe it wasn't fake, but I knew what you needed and so that's what I became. It's the job; what we do. The greatest trick the devil ever pulled was making people think he didn't exist."

"Well, now the devil is going back to hell," he said. Finally, he stepped back, indicating that the conversation was over.

It wasn't a large compound, but it did have a lot of winding hallways. Hallways that connects to small offices. And on one full side of the building was the open wearhouse where they were keeping the girl suspended in the air with her hands chained together, handing down from the ceiling connected to one of the many rafters.
He had made his way through the halls, up to the rafters and watched as the girl was tortured. She wasn't killed though, so there was no need to intervention on his part yet. It wasn't pleasant watching her like that, but people were tortured all the time. He'd done it more times than he could count. It was just a fact of life.
At least, in his life.
Just like, as he heard from the conversation that went between the Russian and the American, it was for the girl.
But what he didn't like to hear was when the large Vladimir hunchman that the small Russian called back in to finish the job. As he started to continue on with the torture, prolonging the pain, Bucky realized that the girl had no escape plan. He had seen her calculating, but with the physical condition she was currently in, she wasn't able to do what she normally could.
The screams of pain she was letting out weren't just because of the pain: she was scared of dying.

He was running. There was a feeling of utter urgency, but as to why he wasn't exactly sure at that moment. It wasn't until his eyes landed on the two figures through the wintered woods.

There was a male straddling the other figure, hand around their neck. The man themself really wasn't too important. The action they were doing was, but whoever they were didn't matter to him.

It was the fact that they were trying to kill the young, brunette girl under him. Her eyes started to drift shut, her hold on his hands started to go limp. She was dying.

Rage swept over him, but that wasn't the only emotion. Fear. Complete and utter fear. Not because he was afraid that he would be next, but of losing that young girl. So he did the only thing he could think of. Bucky shot the guy, saving the life of the brunette.

With the sudden loss of breaksure on her neck, an abundance of air for her lungs caused her throat to burn, and that made her cough. She rolled her to side as she started to back up a lung. Before she was able to regain composure, Bucky dropped down next to her and pulled her into his arms.

The feeling of relief, and even comfort, despite her fighting his hold. He was just so…happy, she was alive.

"Anna, Anna, it's okay!"

Her throat was hoarse, and her voice raw. She croaked as she said, "B-Bucky?"

"It's okay, I'm right here," he said, picking her up off the ground. "I've got you. You're safe."

Torture was always a hazard of the job. It was an ever present risk. Anna had been through her fair share of it already, and the tricks Vlad had up his sleeves were nothing she hadn't been through already. That didn't, however, mean it felt any more tolerable than it ever had been.

The screaming was never intended to slip, but once the torture began, Anna had the hardest time controlling that. At least she didn't have to stop herself from giving away information. She could do that, but it took far more restraint. All that was needed here was to make her feel pain, and to kill her, which was going superbly by the way she was starting to bleed out all over the concrete floor, the barely audible sound of her blood drip, drip, dripping into the puddle below her.

Having to confront death was also not a new occurrence, but right now, she really didn't see a way out of it this time. She couldn't pull herself up, she couldn't dislocate her thumbs, or use her own blood to use as lubricant to slip out of the cuff. She couldn't fight, she couldn't do anything other than scream and hope for the best.

For once, hope didn't leave her hanging.
Right there to save her, like so many times before, was Bucky. Where exactly he had come from, she didn't know. She didn't even know exactly what he had done to Vladimir, but all she knew was that he stopped, and Bucky was pulling her down. Her arms cracked, and were incredibly stiff as he did so, but it felt so good to be able to rest them.

But Anna was more focused on the fact that her husband was standing in front of her.

"Bucky?"

He just looked at her for a moment before he picked her back up. He could tell by how much blood she was losing that she needed to get out of there now. She wouldn't be able to do it herself.

There was no indicator that he knew she was his wife, but there had to be some recognition that there was a connection. Otherwise he wouldn't be there. Anna cautiously reached up and placed her hand on his cheek to turn him to look at her. He tensed more, but did look down at her.

Just the tenderness of the touch was enough to genuinely frighten him. Bucky didn't like that vulnerable feeling. It made his stomach feel odd, as if he were about to be sick. But for some reason, looking away didn't really see like a possibility.

Bucky was feeling that same fear. But for another reason. He was walking away from the very brunette, a large bag slung over his shoulder. He was headed towards a boat, and ne never dreaded heading to a destination as much as he was right then.

But then she called out to him.

"Bucky!"

He turned around, and just as he did, the girl wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling herself flush against his chest. Her rosy lips met his firmly, and this took him by surprise. But regaining his mind was very simply. The kiss felt incredible. It was comforting, and he could remember wishing that this was something he wanted to come back to. This feeling, this comfort, and hope, the prospective with this girl. He wanted this girl.

Bucky dropped his bag and instantly wrapped his arms around her small frame. He wasn't just holding her, he was clinging to her. His fists clenched the fabric of her dress on her back. Like if he held on, she'd never be able to leave him. So he wouldn't be able to leave the safety of his home. And he wasn't just talking about New York City.

When the kiss ended, Bucky couldn't bring himself to let her go. He buried his face into her neck, inhaling the sweet scent of her. She wanted to be able to remember this moment. He wouldn't let it go.

"Thank you," Bucky said, his lips brushing against the skin of her neck. He could feel her shiver under him.

Her response was a tighter grasp. He knew he sounded weak, but he didn't care. This was exactly what he needed. How she knew it, he didn't know, but it made him want to stay there with her all the more. He wanted her. He wanted the chance to see where this went.

He never had to answer her question, for the girl fell unconscious from loss of blood. Her hand fell from his cheek. Bucky heard someone yell to get a gurney as he drew closer to the hospital, but once she was on one, he left her.. All he could think was that he was glad she was safe, and: I'm better off alone.

So, just happened to forget to post again...My bad.

Thanks for the following for their reviews on the previous chapter:

Jedi Jelsa777- This one was definitely longer!

zikashigaku - Yes, Anna will definitely get to interact with Peter at some point. I have an idea in my head for it too. Just thought of it while I was writing this reply! So I thank you for my inspiration.