A/N: Love Is Blindness by Jack White

[July 7th, 2011]

It was a strange feeling, Cara thought, as she stood out in the middle of nowhere. It was their drop point for some valuable and ancient Norse artifacts that had been wreaking havoc in some small towns. SHIELD would be here soon, and then she would have a few days off at least. She was feeling... happy; almost delirious with a strange, twisted delight. The man next to her was the main reason for that. She wondered if this was what it was like for everyone.

She couldn't remember the last time she had been this happy because of another person. It might have been never.

"Hey," the man next to her said, reaching down to take her hand. She looked at him, and the look on his face made her smile. He brought her fingers up to his lips. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," she said. "I was just thinking."

"About the mission?"

"About us."

"What's there to think about?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. Guess that's why I was thinking."

"Listen," he said. "Once we get back, it'll all make sense."

"Oh?" she said, raising her eyebrows. "And how do you know that?"

He shook his head slightly, with a small smirk, and kissed her temple. Her heart fluttered.

"You'll see," he said. "You'll see soon."

[June 2014]

Bucky felt like the past was repeating itself in some twisted manner. Here he was, on a train with Captain America, going off to fight HYDRA. It felt like a bad joke. Cara looked up at Bucky as the train inched closer to their destination.

"Ready?" she said. They stood near the door, their suitcases in hand, ready to run.

"Ready as I'll ever be," he muttered. She didn't say anything else, but slid her cold hand into his. It was bright outside, the midday sun beating down on the ground. The station was surrounded by practically a forest, a small road leading up to the town. It was obviously a tourist location, going by the many families and couples, smiling and looking happy, all still sitting in their seats. Him and Cara were the only ones near the door, save for a small girl, no older than four or five, completely alone. She stared up at Bucky curiously, in the wide eyed way only little kids could.

"You're from the museum," she said confidently.

"I don't think so, darling," Cara said, a little apologetically.

"No. Bucky James Buck Ann En Barnes. You know Captain America?"

Cara glanced at Bucky sharply, who gave her hand a small squeeze, and knelt down to talk to the kid.

"Bucky," she said, a quiet warning in her voice.

"I'll take care of this," he said. "Yeah. I know him."

"Tell him good job for beating the bad guys," she said. "My name's Cassie."

"Nice to meet you, Cassie," he said. "You like Captain America?"

"Yes, I watch his cartoon," she said, taking a deep breath, and beginning to sing. "When Captain America throws his mighty shield."

He gave a low laugh. "All those who chose to oppose his shield must yield," he sang, and she giggled. Cara's expression could only be described as shock. "What? You had work. What else was I going to watch? That show with the creepy puppets?"

"You are so never living this down."

He ignored her. "Now, Cassie, can you try and do something for us? You know, like a real superhero?"

"Like Captain America? Or Iron Man? Or the Mighty Thor?" she said.

"Like them. We're on a secret mission, for the Captain," he said. "You can't tell anyone you saw us, or the bad guys might catch us, and stop the mission."

She nodded solemnly. "Alright," she said. "I won't say anything to anybody."

"Thanks, kid," Bucky said. "Where's your parents, anyways?"

"Mommy's somewhere on the train, and daddy's in prison for stealing a lot of money," she said matter of factly. Bucky glanced at Cara, and saw that she was also at a loss for words.

"I'm sorry-"

"It's okay, because he's not a bad guy," she said. "Why are you wearing a glove on your hand, but only one? It's hot outside."

"I hurt my arm," he said. "I cover it to hide that. Is your ma looking for you?"

"Oh," she said. "Maybe she is."

"She's probably worried."

"Maybe," she said. "How does a glove hide an arm?"

He sighed, and gave Cara another look. She shook her head slightly. He let go of her hand, and slipped his glove off.

"Bucky," Cara said.

"It's fine," he said, opening and closing his hand. Cassie gasped. "The bad guys know about this. If they see it, they'll try and catch me."

"Oh," Cassie said. "It's metal, like Luke Skywalker in Star Wars."

He looked at Cara, who shrugged, mouthing I have no idea.

"Yeah... I guess."

She grinned, and looked up at him in amazement. "Cool! I won't ever say anything. Then the bad guys will never find you!"

"You know what, Cassie?" he said. "You're more of a superhero than any of us."

"Really?" she said.

"Yeah."

She began to laugh. "You are too, Bucky James Buck Ann En Barnes!"

He didn't correct her. What harm could come from a little kid think there were more superheroes out there? She didn't need to know about... About people like him.

"Cassie?" a woman said. Bucky stood up, slipping his metal hand into his pocket. "Cassie, baby, where were you?"

"Mommy!" Cassie said. "I'm a superhero. What should my name be?"

"Cassandra Lang, you should not have run off," her mother said. "That was very, very bad."

"Mommy, these are my friends," she said, pointing at Bucky and Cara. "I'm a superhero like Iron Man."

The woman looked up at them. "I'm sorry if she bothered you," she said. "She just wandered off, and I was worried sick."

"She was no problem," Cara said. Bucky nodded, silently grabbing onto Cara's hand again.

"Thank you," she said. "For humoring her."

Bucky nodded. "No problem," he echoed. Cassie smiled up at him.

"Bye," she said, waving. "I'll see you soon, bye!"

Her mother shot them another apologetic look, as she lead her daughter away, leaving the last car.

"Cassie Lang," Cara said, musingly, as the train began to slow. "You know, I think I heard about her dad. He was on SHIELD radar for a bit after the some of the stunts he pulled."

"What he do?"

"Steal from the rich criminals, give it to the people they stole it from, drive cars into pools," she said. "Cassie was right. He's not a bad guy, not really."

"Oh," Bucky said. "What happened to him?"

"Like she said, he went to prison," she said, shrugging. "Sometimes life isn't fair that way."

She fell silent, and the seconds ticked on before the train jerked to a halt. The doors opened with a clatter. He bolted out, practically dragging her behind him, onto the platform, past all the people waiting, and far away from his past that was still aboard the train. He could imagine Steve getting off at the same time as him, chasing him, bringing back the past that Bucky could never have back.

She kept up, for the most part, and he remembered doing this before, though he had been smiling then, and he certainly wasn't now. That day, when she had gone running with him, defended him, laughed with him as he spun her around, that was the day he had fallen head over heels for her.

He wished that he could go back to that.

He wished they could go back to that.

She stumbled suddenly, and he spun around, reflexes kicking in, dropping the suitcase, and catching her before she hit the ground.

"Cara," he said, urgently. They had to keep going. They had to.

"Ow, shit, I'm okay," she said, gasping, clinging to his jacket, slender fingers wound tightly in the fabric. "Just hit a rock. Sorry. Come on."

He nodded, and picked up the suitcase, but moved slower. She was still breathing heavily, and he remembered that the past few weeks had been hard on her too. He tried to push down the screaming voice in the back of his mind telling him to get away, to get as far away from there was possible. As far away from them as possible.

He felt her desperately trying to keep up with him, and slowed down, ducking into behind a tree. She leaned against the tree, leaning back and closing her eyes, desperately trying to catch her breath, letting go of his hand, dropping the suitcase. She grabbed her chest, where she had been shot.

"I hate this," she said. "I can't even run."

"Not your fault."

"That doesn't fix me."

"Sorry," he muttered.

"It wasn't your fault, either."

"Right. And it still doesn't fix you."

She gave a small laugh. "Yeah," she said. "That's a bit hard to do, isn't it?"

[The Continental Hotel, July 9th, 2011]

She had figured it out. She had been talking to Hill, and she had said that there had been no SHIELD activity in that location. No pick up, no other team. Not even a mention of her and him.

He had been the one to tell her, and she had blindly followed him in, trusting him, because he was part of her team, because he had saved her before, he had saved all of them before, because he was a part of her freakshow, and there should have been no way that he would ever betray them. She loved him, she had told him so, and he had said it back. There should have been no way that he was a traitor.

She sat in the hotel room, staring at the evidence in her hand. No SHIELD pickup, it read. And that meant that he was a traitor. That meant that she was an idiot.

She had been so blind.

The door swung open, and he walked in. He hardly ever smiled and she was fine with that. But he always did when he looked at her. She stood up quickly. She hadn't told anyone else. She had to give him the chance to explain himself. She had too.

"Cara," he said. "What's wrong?"

"Who are you?" she said.

"What?"

"There... There was no SHIELD team there that day," she said, lifting up the paper. "You lied to me. Who were they? Who. Are. You?" She spoke quietly, and she was glad her voice did not shake. It made her sound confident, calm. Not at all like the mess of emotions she was currently experiencing.

"Cara," he said. "Cara, what are you saying?"

"You LIED to me," she said, losing her temper. "Why? Tell me what's happening."

He stared at her, taking a few steps forward. He was so close she could touch him. "Have you told anyone else?"

"No... I wanted to give you the chance to explain yourself," she said.

"Fine," he said. "I don't work for SHIELD."

"What?"

"I do not work for you people," he snapped. That was what she expected, and it still didn't feel real. "But my real employers, they're the real good guys. They're working towards a world of peace, of order. Beyond anything that you could comprehend. You could be a part of that. Please, Cara, please. You could be with me."

She stared at him, and hated to say that she was tempted. He made her feel so happy. She loved him. She loved him.

But not enough to betray everyone else in her life.

"You're a traitor," she said. "I will never be that."

He nodded, and then his face became resolute.

"Then I'm sorry," he said. Before she could move, his hand was dropping to his belt, and he was pulling out a combat knife. She managed to step back, dodging the swing before it hit her throat, but not before it caught her under the collarbone. She gasped, stumbling back, looking down at the cut, and then at him in horror.

She whispered his name.

He still came at her.

She had been so blind.

"I'm sorry," he repeated. "I'm sorry. I work too hard to have my cover blown. I will kill anyone who threatens that. Even you, even you." He lunged forward, but this time, she managed to catch his wrist, twisting his arm, and using the leverage to kick him away from her. The knife clattered to the ground. She dove for it, and so did he. She managed to hold it for a good three seconds, before he made her drop it, kicking it far away. She couldn't reach it.

His fist hit her, and she was on the ground, and his knee was in her stomach, and his hands were around her throat, and she couldn't breath. She coughed, and her nails dug into his wrists as she tried to pull him off, and she was drawing blood, she could feel it on her hands, but he would not let go. She looked at him, and he stared down at her. She couldn't even beg, and then she knew that she was going to die here. He was going to kill her.

"I'm sorry. I love you. I'm sorry, I still love you, I wish I didn't have to do this. I'm so sorry. I love you. I love you. I love you."

Black dots danced behind her eyes, and she could feel herself slipping away.

And just like that, he was gone. She took in a shuddering breath, and rolled on her side, and looked up to see Natasha Romanoff standing over her, pointing a gun at him.

"On your feet," she said coldly, staring at him with a look that was some mix of hatred and disgust.

"She's a traitor," he said, holding his head, standing up slowly. "She tried to kill me."

"Tasha," Cara said, through the coughs that were racking her body. She grabbed her shoulder. Her hand was slick with blood, both her own, and his. "Tasha, don't believe him."

"Don't try that with me," Natasha hissed at him. "I heard you. Your room is bugged. Consider this an arrest."

He took a step back.

"You'll all regret this," he said. "When you know, you'll regret this!"

He looked down at her, smiling. He always smiled at her.

"Goodbye, Cara," he said.

And then he was crashing through it, as Natasha fired, several shots. She dropped down to Cara's side.

"Cara, Cara, someone will be here soon," she said. "Just hold still, don't move."

"No," Cara whispered, getting up shakily, stumbling towards the broken window. Natasha followed her closely. There was no body below them. There was nothing.

She put her hands over her mouth and she could feel his blood and her blood on her skin.

And then she screamed.

[June 2014]

"Right," Cara said, leaning over the map, hair falling in her face. She brushed it back. They had rented a small cabin on the outskirts of the town, off the map. "This is where the base is, supposedly," she tapped a small clearing, about three miles away from them. "I'm not sure exactly what they do there, but most signs indicate that there are labs. The cover for is is a research facility for a company that doesn't exist. It's underground, one entrance, one key. That key is held by this man, Isaak Grail. On his person at all times," she said, pointing at a grainy picture of an older man. He seemed familiar, and his face itched at the back of Bucky's brain. "Luckily for us, I know how to pickpocket, and he's having a party tonight. We're invited."

"How'd you manage that?" he asked. She grinned, and moved her hand. Suddenly she was holding two tickets.

"Like I said, I know how to pickpocket," she said. "It's all just sleight of hand."

"You could be a magician," he said, offering her a smile, and taking the tickets from her hands. They were made of quality paper, where fancy type read that the party was indeed being held today, at some large public building. It was for charity. Solid cover. No one would think that the evil Nazi organization from hell would give to charity (although he doubted it actually exists).

"Thank you, I could," she said. "Anyways, once we get the key, we have to move, because once he figures it out, all hell will break lose."

"What do we once in there?"

"No clue," she said. "We wing it I guess. Fuck up as many of their toys as we can, then run for dear life."

"Solid plan," he said, rolling his eyes.

"Thank you."

"But really," he said. "Do we have any idea of what we're going to do?"

She shook her head, and grinned broader. "That's why it's going to be fun."

"Cara."

"Bucky," she echoed. "I have no idea of what it looks like in there. We can't plan ahead."

"Fine then," he said, crossing his arms. "Leave staying alive and getting out to me."

She leaned over, kissing his cheek. "Thank you, darling," she said. "I'm going to get changed. You should too."

"Into what?"

"Your suit."

"I hate the suit."

She rolled her eyes as she grabbed her suitcase, walking towards the bathroom. "You look nice in the suit, and we need to look nice."

He groaned, getting up, picked up his own suitcase, getting that horrible suit out. It was underneath an assault rifle. He'd rather take that.

"Stupid party," he muttered. "Stupid suit, stupid-"

"If you say 'stupid Cara', I will come out there and kick your ass," Cara's voice echoed from behind the door. He stopped talking. "That's what I thought."

He got dressed slowly, and was just tying the tie when she walked out. He glanced up, and did a double take. She looked how she did on the night that she went out with Lewis, with the black dress showing off her legs, and loose hair, but there was something different. She seemed slightly more at ease, although there was a determination in her step. She was beautiful. She looked up at him.

"Need help?" she said, and he realized that he hadn't moved, hands still on the tie, and was staring at her.

"No," he said, too quickly, looking at the ground. She laughed, and walked over, taking the tie, and tying it, fingers moving quickly. He stared at her, taking in just how close she was to him. He could see her much better now than he could in the train. She moved away, straightening his jacket, and looked up at him.

"You look good," she said quietly, searching his face. He leaned forward, closing the distance between them. Their lips had barely brushed when she leaned back, putting her hand on his chest. "Not right now. We have to go."

She stepped away, clearing her throat, leaning down to get her jacket. He sighed, running his hand through his hair.

"Do you have your ring on?" she asked. He shook his head, reaching into his pocket, and taking it out. He stared at it a moment, before he slipped it on. The gold band glinted. She held out her hand, and on hers was the matching one. He took it.

"Alright, James. Let's go break some bad guys."

[The Continental Hotel, July 9th, 2011]

She was numb.

She didn't wince as the needle was pushed back through her skin. She could barely feel anything She had refused to go to a hospital, so the med team had to come here. They said that other than the cut, and the bruises on her neck and stomach, she was fine, physically. She hadn't said anything since it happened, though. The paramedics had said it was shock. She just... Just didn't feel like she could say anything. She didn't want to say anything. She was numb.

Sophia was pacing in front of her, yelling into the phone. Her long hair was tied back, and she had set up several computers around the room, each monitoring for any sign of him. It was hard to get her angry, but when it happened...

"I don't care what you have to do, just find him!" she said. "That bastard has been fucking over my team for years. I want you to find him!"

"Soph," Amatus said. He was leaning against the wall, rubbing his face. "You need to calm down There's nothing we can do."

"No! Not over this!" she said. "I will not let this go. He tried to kill her!"

"I know," he said. "I know."

The medic finished the stitches, and began to bandage it. Natasha sat down next to her.

"Fletcher," she said. Cara kept staring at the wall. "I know you don't want to talk. And I get that. But this was in no way your fault, do you hear me? He fooled everyone. Me. Your team. Fury himself. We were all blind. You are not an idiot. You are not dumb. You were being human. And him... He was not."

Cara didn't respond. She didn't move.

"He was a no good traitor. And he fooled us all. You were the closest to him, and I know that this has hurt you. But it's okay. You'll get through this. It's gonna hurt, but you're gonna get through this. It's just one of those times when you have to decide who you are, and what you want."

Cara stood up, and began walking to the door.

"Cara. What do you want?"

She looked back at Nat, stepping out into the hall.

"Right now?" she said. "I want to forget. I want to forget this ever happened."

[June, 2014]

The concert hall was large. Bucky counted three exits on the ground floor, with the possibility that the windows could be uses as well. It was bright, and he could hear the music from where they were. They were about a block away from it. Cara had her arm looped through his, and was leaning in close to him.

"Forgot to ask," he said. "What weapons do you have?"

"Two knives," she said. "And a Glock 9 mil. You?"

"SIG-Sauer P220ST," he said. "Derringer, Glock 19, Intratec TEC-38. And five knives."

"Five kni- You are such a show-off," she said, hitting his arm.

"I'm an assassin. This is traveling light."

She shook her head, and smiled at the ground. "Honestly, I half expected you to bring some sort of grenade launcher."

He shrugged. "Might have. Maybe."

She stopped, looking up at him seriously. "What?"

"I mean. Maybe I did. Maybe I snuck it into the taxi. Maybe it's hidden by that tree back there. Maybe."

"You're not serious," she said.

"I said maybe."

"How?"

"You're not the only one who knows sleight of hand."

"It's a bit different," she said. "A few pieces of paper against a grenade launcher."

"Guess I'm just a better magician than you."

"Complete and utter show-off."

"I know," he murmured with a smile, as they walked through the front doors. Someone stopped them, asking for their invitations, which Cara handed over. They were checked, scanned with something, and handed it over with a smile. Obviously they passed. At least, he hoped they did. It could be a trap.

She shrugged off her coat, and Bucky offered to take it. She leaned up and whispered in his ear. "I'm going to go see if I can get eyes on the mark. See you in a moment." She kissed his cheek, and walked off, leaving Bucky staring after her. That dress really did work for her. He shook his head, hanging up her coat, and looked around. A large glass chandelier glimmered overhead. One stair case, large, filled with scattered people. A few doorways lead off to other rooms. A few armed guards by the doors, and a few of had mingled in with the crowds, like they were undercover.

Cara had gone up the stairs. He followed her. The room at the top of the stairs was a ballroom, and there were people milling around. There was a flash of a memory, of him watching something like this from outside, watching it explode, hearing the sounds of screams and sirens, smelling the smoke and burning flesh and wood, feeling the heat of the flames on his face, and he flinched, forcing it to the back of his mind. Taking a deep breath, he steadied himself, and found Cara, standing by a crowd of people, laughing at something they said. She turned to him, and beckoned him over, and he found himself moving towards her. She smiled up at him, sliding her arm around his waist. He did the same, holding her tightly, the image still etched on his eyes.

"This is James, my husband," she said, introducing him to the small group. "James, these are some old veterans of these parties."

"Hello, James," a woman said. "First Grail party? Cara said it was hers."

"Yes," he said. "I don't even know what he looks like."

"Oh that's him," she said, waving in that direction. "Over there. At the center of attention, as always." The group laughed, and he looked over that where she pointed. A man matching the photograph indeed stood in the center of attention. There was a coldness about him, despite the fact that he was smiling, and Bucky shuddered. Again, looking at him made something itch in the back of his mind, and his gut twisted. It was unsettling, and Bucky suddenly desperately wanted to leave.

"Could you excuse us?" he said, taking Cara's hand, and leading her away.

"You look like you've seen a ghost," she said, touching his cheek.

"Probably have," he said. "What's next?"

"One of us needs to get close enough to lift the key," she said.

"Right," he said. "We can do that." They began to wander over. Grail was surrounded by body guards, Bucky noticed, all very subtly placed, blending in with the crowds, making light conversation. The only reason Bucky could tell who they were was because of their weapons, hidden under their jackets, and a nearly invisible earpiece. One of them turned around gaze stopping on them. He was tall and muscular, with cold, pale blue eyes.

Cara froze beside him. That wasn't right. She knew better then to draw attention like that. He looked down at her, and her eyes were wide, almost filled with tears. She let out a shuddering breath, shaking, frozen.

"Cara?" he said. "Cara, what's wrong?" He looked back at the guard and saw that he wasn't staring at them. He was staring at Cara, only Cara. Something passed over his face, and he said her name, too quietly for Bucky to hear, though he could read it on his lips.

Bucky tightened his grip on her, as she began to murmur, and he hadn't heard her sound like that since she had woken up from her nightmare.

"It's him," she said, and her voice trembled. "It's him. Oh, my god. It's him. He's here."

A/N: I debated a while on how to do this chapter, which is part of the reason it took so long. I tried to make it a little fluffier, which was tricky, because Cara's backstory was physically painful to write. I've had that planned since the beginning, but didn't want to spoil anything, so haven't had her internal monologue say anything. I originally wasn't going to mention anything in this series (saving it for the Freakshow series that might never happen), but it felt right. I feel like everyone knows who "he" is. Like there was really no point in building suspense, but eh, maybe that's just me being a typical paranoid writer. If you don't know who he is, you will.

Cassie wasn't originally there, she was just some random child, but then I was like "CASSANDRA LANG WOULD BE PERFECT AND SHE CAN BE MY RANDOM CANON CHARACTER OF THE CHAPTER". Scott is a big enough nerd, he probably showed her Star Wars before she could talk.

Can anyone else see Bucky sneaking a grenade launcher to a fancy party?

Thank you all for reading! Soon we'll be seeing some things from Bucky's Winter Soldier days begin to pop up... That'll be fun.