Ella woke up early the next morning. The sun had barely risen, the ground still covered in a thin layer of mist. The sky was a hazy pink in color, casting a dim light through her window.

Ella got dressed, tugging a brush through her hair and splashing some water on her face to help wake up. She gazed at herself in the mirror, reminding herself that James was, or at least should, be in her apartment. Her job was to help him, that's all. He should remember himself before he remembered her. She had to worry about him over her.

She opened her bedroom door, peeking out to see if James was awake yet. He wasn't in the living room or the kitchen and his door was closed. Ella hoped he got enough sleep.

Ella grabbed her purse from the kitchen table, stepping as lightly as she could through the apartment as to not disturb him. He could probably hear everything. She tiptoed out the door, shutting it as quietly as she could behind her. She wouldn't be gone long.

Ella first went to a department store, picking out some shirts, pants, and jackets for James. Not only that, but also a toothbrush and some razors in case he ever thought about shaving. She really just had to eyeball the sizes, but she figured he was close in size to Steve. She paid for the things before going to the grocery store.

Ella thought an easy way to remind him of his life was through food. Smell and taste were really connected to memory. So, she purchased familiar foods from their childhoods. From the potatoes, to the vegetables for her soup, and even to the biscuits she was planning on making for breakfast. Of course, Ella also had to stock the rest of her kitchen so she bought far more than just those things. When she left, her arms were full of plastic bags. At least she was able to carry them with the enhancement.

Ella managed to unlock her door, kicking it opened with her foot and going inside with only a minor struggle. There was no doubt that is James wasn't awake yet, he was now. From the slamming of her door to the bothersome noise of the plastic bags, it sounded like she was trying to wake him up.

Ella huffed as she dropped the bags on the table, immediately organizing it all and putting everything away. It took less than fifteen minutes, her fridge and cabinets finally stocked. She checked the time on her phone; barely ten in the morning. Ella looked up at his door, finding it still closed. She shook herself, trying not to be hung up on the fact that he wouldn't act the way she was used to. Ella distracted herself by beginning to make breakfast.

James had been awake for a few hours already. He didn't sleep for long, dreams hazy and frightening. Images of his time at HYDRA mixed in the blurry snippets that he assumed were parts of his memory. He thought he saw that man on the bridge, Steve. He was much smaller then, wearing unfamiliar clothes.

He had books opened all over the bed he had been given. The girl was right; there were sections on him as well as Steve. A lot of the information he had already read in the museum, but there were smaller details every once in a while that were new to him.

He heard the girl leave early that morning, footsteps light against the wooden floor. She was gone for a little over an hour before she returned, obviously not trying to be as quiet or maybe unable to. He heard the rustle of thin plastic. She must have gone to the store.

He could hear her moving through the kitchen. He wasn't sure when he should leave his room, simply sitting in the dark and looking at his hands.

There was clanking around in the kitchen. He could almost tell exactly what she was doing by sound alone.

Not much longer, a savory scent wafted into his room. He looked up, inhaling deeply. He didn't know why, but it smelled familiar. He stood, the springs creaking at the loss of weight. He still wore his jeans, his boots sitting at the foot of his bed leaving his feet covered in cheap socks. He had taken off two of his layers, wearing a simple grey shirt. His hat rested on his bag, which waited patiently right beside his bed in case he needed to take off in a moment's notice.

His metal hand wrapped around the doorknob. James paused, looking at the shining appendage. She had seen it before; he remembered how he had attacked her on the rooftop. He wondered if she would be scared of it. Really, she should be. It was dangerous, he was dangerous. He didn't doubt that she already knew it, he saw it in her eyes the previous night.

James opened the door and stepped out into the living room. His eyes instantly went to the kitchen where the girl stood before the stove. She looked over her shoulder when she heard him, smiling lightly.

"Good morning, James." She said.

James stared for a heartbeat longer, something vaguely familiar about the domestic scene before him. He shut his eyes softly, trying to grasp at his misty memories, only to have them slip right through his fingers.

"There's stuff for you on the table." Ella announced as she made eggs. "I think I got the right size."

James went to the kitchen table, seeing a few shirts, jackets, and pants folded neatly in tight squares. There was a toothbrush and a razor, along with a few notebooks and a pack of pens.

"What are these for?" James asked, picking up a notebook.

Ella turned around to see what he was talking about. "Oh, they're for you to organize your memories." She explained. "Just to help you keep everything together."

James flickered through the blank notebook, again surprised by the thoughtfulness of this woman. He didn't know why she was helping him, not really even just helping but going above and beyond as if he wasn't a murderer she had only met once.

"I hope you're hungry," she spoke up again, tearing James out of his thoughts. "I made a lot."

She carried two plates to the table, a mountain of food on one and a smaller portion on the other. She slid the heavier plate towards him before sitting down in the same spot she sat last night. James looked down at his plate as he lowered himself into the chair. He could make out eggs and toast, a fluffy white biscuit smothered in gravy in the corner. He had to admit, it smelled amazing.

Ella stood, forgetting the coffee she had brewing on the counter. She remembered that Bucky used to like his coffee with two packets of sugar in it. Ella did this automatically, mixing it together before sliding it to James.

Every once in a while, she would peek up from her plate and study him. He was eating, which was a positive. Nothing seemed to bother him; in fact, he seemed to enjoy his meal.

"How is it?" Ella asked, sipping at her coffee.

"Tastes familiar."

Ella wished he would expand sometimes. Most of his answers were one or two words, rarely any more. Ella would try to work some longer response out of him.

"Taste is really connected with memory," Ella said, ripping apart her toast and putting it into her mouth. "Eating familiar food should help you."

Of course, Ella knew what was familiar for him. She had cooked for him and Steve on countless occasions. She could make every meal familiar to him if she wanted, it would be easy and probably helpful to him.

They finished with little conversation, Ella taking his plate and cleaning the dishes while he took his things back to his room. She hoped he didn't catch her gawking at his metal arm. It was amazing, although dangerous. She couldn't even begin to imagine how much it hurt him to get it in the first place. There was a pang in her heart as she realized that Bucky, her Bucky, had lost his arm before he had gotten this new one.

Ella batted her eyes, blinking away the tears that threatened to spill over as she put the plates back into the cabinet. As she was drying off the last plate, James came back out of his room.

"Who were you talking to last night?" he asked. "On the fire escape?"

She was surprised by the question. "My brother." Not a lie. "He's worried about me living on my own."

James didn't really respond, standing stiff in the middle of the living room. He looked awkward, like he didn't know what to do. Ella guessed HYDRA didn't give him a lot of free time.

"You can sit down if you'd like." Ella said, nodding at the couch. "Really, if you're staying here, you can do whatever you want. It's your choice."

Those last few words really got to James. She was giving him a choice, something far more important than a bed or even food. Being able to make a choice was a decision that HYDRA took from him, a simple freedom ripped from his grasp. Now, here was this girl, Ella, who probably didn't even know that giving him the chance to choose where to sit meant the world.

James sat down on the couch. It still smelled new.

Ella came into the living room, sitting down in an armchair that faced him. She tucked her legs underneath herself, leaning forward slightly. "Did the books help?"

James shrugged, metal arm whirling. "A little."

Two worded answer yet again. Ella rested her chin in her palm, trying to think of what to do to help him. She started out simply. "What do you remember?"

"Missions." James answered, staring blankly in front of him.

"All of them?"

"I- I think so."

He looked clouded with thought, eyes tormented. Ella didn't know exactly what happened during his missions, but she could only guess it was awful. He… he was an assassin. Remembering all the people he killed against his will was probably the worst torture he had to endure.

"Well, why don't we do some simple things?" Ella said. "Is there anything that sticks out to you that you like or dislike?"

"I don't like the cold." James mumbled.

"Me neither." Ella breathed, partially to herself. The cold reminded her too much of how they would freeze, for years. That must be the same reason why James didn't like it either. She didn't expect to see him looking at her, an unreadable expression on his face. Ella simply sent him a wry smile. At least they had something in common.

Ella did her best to help him that day, asking him questions that she believed would lead him to the answers he was looking for. HYDRA had messed him up badly. He didn't know anything, not even his own birthday. He did, however, know things about the world like what day Christmas was. HYDRA simply took away everything that made him a person.

Ella eventually grabbed her laptop from her room, giving James a quick rundown on how to use it properly. She hoped that he would be able to figure things out on his own somehow, that moving at his own pace would help.

She turned on the television, leaving James on the couch with the laptop while she went back into the kitchen. They had talked for hours, completely skipping lunch. Ella felt frustrated that they were barely any further than where they began. It made the whole situation seem hopeless. Maybe… he just wasn't meant to remember. Maybe what HYDRA did to him was irreversible.

Ella tried to block out these negative thoughts as she cut up vegetables expertly for her soup. Her Ma would have been proud at how much better she had become at cooking. The news droned on in the background, showing some footage of the wrecked site at the Triskelion. It had caused a lot of damage, teams working day and night to pull the mangled pieces of the Helicarriers from the bottom of the Potomac. They showed a picture of Pierce on the screen. Ella ground her teeth, her grip on the knife tightening. She chopped down on the carrot too hard, the blade falling from the wooden handle loudly.

Ella cursed and bent down to pick it up carefully. If it wasn't for HYDRA, she wouldn't be able to do that. She held the blade next to the handle with a sigh. It wasn't fixable, she had ripped the metal in half. She tossed the two halves into the trash dejectedly, turning to grab a new knife. Right behind her was James. Ella didn't know how he could possible manage to sneak up on her like that.

"You're strong." He said. It wasn't a question. "Pierce said it."

Ella hated hearing his name. "I'm guessing that's something you remember?"

"Yes."

She walked around his broad form, standing in front of the pot and mixing it. She didn't know what to say, staring into the red broth with furrowed brows. She could feel the heat of it on her face, causing a few stands of hair to stick to her skin.

"He's dead." James stated, looking at the television. "Pierce is dead."

"I know." Ella said. "He deserves to be."

James watched her brooding form as she stirred the contents in the pot. He didn't know how she knew Pierce, but she didn't sound happy. James felt the same way, now that he was away from them and able to think for himself.

"HYDRA isn't." he said.

"I know."

"They'll come looking for me."

"They won't find you."

James was surprised by the determination in her voice. It was hard and stubborn, as if no one else could tell her differently. She honestly just wanted to help him. Why was that? It continued to baffle him.

"But what if they come looking for you?" James asked.

Ella looked up from her soup, meeting his eyes slowly. She could make out the barest of concerns, if anything. He wasn't worried about them coming after him, but he worried about them coming after her. He sounded like Steve. Of course, Ella had thought about what would happen if HYDRA did eventually find her, even if it was a slim chance. Still, she knew that they were weak now and with Steve and the Avengers going after what was left, it wouldn't be long until they were gone completely.

"I'll just deal with them." Ella said, as if it were nothing.

James observed her as she stood over the pot, taking a small sip as she tasted it. She just looked so… normal. She wasn't a fighter. Even if HYDRA did get her, they would have to start from the very basics. She obviously had no clue how to defend herself.

"Sorry we skipped lunch." Ella said, diverting the direction of the conversation. "There's a lot of soup though."

She let it heat up on the stove a bit longer, opening up a cabinet and pulling out a loaf of bread. She sliced up generous pieces, putting them in a large bowl in the middle of the table. She opened up the fridge, bending over and pulling out a Coca-Cola for herself.

"Do you want a soda?" she tossed over her shoulder.

"No."

James was already sitting at the table when Ella came back with two steaming bowls in her hands. She carefully placed one down in front of him, as if not to spill a single drop. He waiting until she was seated before picking up his spoon and dipping it into his broth, not bothering to cool it off before tasting it.

The girl was right; the taste was connected to a memory. He shut his eyes softly, the image of an older woman coming to mind. She wore an apron and ruffled his hair when he presented her with an empty bowl. She had light hair, the barest of wrinkles forming on her face. Beside him was Steve, much younger.

"I remember something." He announced, opening his eyes.

Ella looked up hopefully. "What is it?"

He looked up to his left as he recalled the hazy images. "I was a kid." He said, eyes narrowing slightly. "Steve was there… I saw a woman. She made soup like this."

"Steve's mother." Ella said. It was strange to call her that and not her mother. "You grew up during the Great Depression. Vegetable soup was something they made a lot then."

James took another bite, catching a pile of vegetables on his spoon. "Yeah… I think that's what it is."

Ella tried not to show the hurt she felt that Bucky remembered her mother before he remembered her. She forced a smile on her lips and pushed one of the notebooks on the table at him. "You should write it down, just to make sure you remember it."

James peered down at the blank composition book for a heartbeat longer before picking up a pen, opening the stiff cover. He jotted down the memory quickly. Ella noted his handwriting hadn't changed.

"You should take your notebooks into your room later." Ella recommended. "They're completely yours, private. I won't pry."

James didn't say anything, but felt thankful. He wasn't ready to share all the horrors in his mind with her. Some things were better left unsaid, especially to this girl. She looked too innocent to deal with his never ending supply of issues.

James ended up eating a few helpings of the soup, using the warm bread to sop up what was left at the bottom. He savored the taste because now he had something to pin it to. A memory, something of his that wasn't twisted or tormented.

"If you think of anything else, write it down or we can talk about it in the morning." Ella said as she cleaned up. She ran a hand through her hair, examining her work. "I'm going to bed. I'll see you in the morning, James."

After her shower and changing into her pajamas, Ella climbed out into her fire escape and called Steve, like she promised. It was a simple conversation really, just proving the fact that she had been living on her own for two whole days and was still alive. She told him to tell Sam that she said hi, and then the conversation was over.

Ella still felt like she needed to make another call. She scrolled through her contacts until she found Kate, waiting patiently as the phone rang.

From his spot on the bed, James was able to make out snippets of her conversation.

"I just feel like I'm stuck in this loop,"

James didn't know what she was talking about, but he could hear how upset she was about it. There was a slight whine to her voice, something that he hadn't heard from her yet. She was always so positive, he never really thought she had her own problems as well.

Ella dragged a hand down her face as she spoke. A loop. She had thought her brother and Bucky had died multiple times, only to have them come back. Not only that, she had to wait through several battles, stressing about Steve's well-being.

Kate listened intently to her friend while she vented. Ella hardly ever talked about her problems, keeping them bottled up until it was about to explode. So, when the rare chance came that Ella ranted, Kate did her duty and helped her along.

"I know it's hard," Kate said. "But your brother is Captain America. It's going to be like this until he isn't."

Ella pinched the bridge of her nose. "I know, you're right…"

"I'm sorry about Barnes,"

Ella was silent for a moment. "It's not your fault… we just have to be patient. I can only hope that he'll come back one day."

She didn't know if she was convincing Kate or herself.

Ella woke up in the middle of the night to noise from the living room. Her eyes peeled open slowly as she tried to piece together what was happening. James never really made that much noise, but she could hear heavy footsteps stumbling towards the kitchen.

Ella tossed the blankets off her legs, trying to ignore the shock of cold air that hit them. She stepped through her door, peeking out towards the kitchen.

James stood there in the dark, hunched over the sink. His metal arm glinted in the dim light, fingers clutching the edge so tightly Ella feared it would break. He wore no shirt; Ella could see the muscles in his back move as he breathed heavily.

"James?" she asked softly. "James, are you alright?" She stepped closer to him, feet hitting the cool tile of the kitchen.

His face was coated in a layer of cold sweat. "Nightmare."

"Sit down, James." Ella said softly, nodding towards the table. As he lumbered over, Ella filled a glass with cold water and handed it to him.

Her eyes flickered towards his heaving chest, lingering there perhaps a bit too long. Bucky had been in shape back during the war, but HYDRA had conditioned him into something more. She looked towards his left shoulder where his flesh met the metal, noting the mangled scar tissue there. Another reminder of the cruelty of HYDRA.

She stepped behind him as he downed the water, slowly placing a hand on his shoulder. The second her flesh met his, he jumped slightly but didn't move her away. She pressed her palm against the skin on his right shoulder, trying to comfort him.

"You're tense." She mumbled, rubbing a slow circle with her thumb. She put her other hand on his left shoulder. "Do you mind?"

James shook his head, finding the contact, in a way, relaxing. It wasn't with a cold indifference like the handlers at HYDRA would when they were around him, or the sharp pain he endured when he didn't comply properly. Her touch was warm and human.

Ella positioned her thumbs above his hard back before digging them into his muscles in an attempt to soothe the tenseness. She felt knots in his shoulders, working them out the best she could. She heard James let out a shuddering breath as he began to unwind. When his shoulders were relaxed, Ella stopped and pulled a chair over to his side before sitting down.

"If you want to talk about it, I'm here." She offered. "But, you don't have to. Remember that. It's your choice."

James swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing as he looked towards Ella, eyes wide. "Why?"

Ella didn't understand the question. "Why what?"

"Why are you helping me so much?"

She didn't know what to say. She couldn't tell him that she was in love with him, or at least with who he used to be. As she looked at his familiar eyes, it was the first time in a long time she could recall him appearing vulnerable. He looked genuinely confused, a crease between his dark brows. Ella hesitated for a moment longer before answering.

"I guess it's because… I could have been in the same position as you." Not a lie. "And if I was, I would want help. It's the right thing to do."

James said nothing, leaving a heavy silence hanging over the pair. He looked back at the glass in his hand with a hard gaze, as if he could shatter it with his will alone.

"You should take a hot shower." Ella advised, running a hand through her tangled hair. "That helps me."

"Because you don't like the cold?"

Ella couldn't help it when her lips spread into a smirk. He remembered something about her, it was a start. "Exactly."

She stood up from her chair, looking towards her open bedroom door with longing, ready to go back to sleep. She had only taken a few steps away before his voice stopped her.

"Thank you, Ella. For everything."

Her heart nearly stopped. It was the first time in 70 years that he heard her name pass through his lips. She savored the sound as it rang through her head, wanting to commit it to memory.

"You're welcome, James."

She fell asleep with more hope in her chest than she could ever remember.

James stood under the scalding water of the shower, letting the warm water trickle into his eyes as he thought. She was right, the warmth did help.

He thought about the girl as he turned off the water, the last few droplets of water clinging to his skin and rolling down his body. She was trying her best to help him in any way she could, so he had to try his best to remember.

James grabbed the notebook and a pen, sitting on the edge of his bed and jotting down the dream. He was sure it was a memory; it felt too real to be anything but. He could still feel the cold winds around him as he fell through the air, the face of Steve as he clung to the side of a train, skin pink. He could still feel the cry at the back of his throat as he fell further and further away from the man said to be his friend.

What really shook him was the scream. It wasn't his scream, it wasn't Steve's scream, but it vibrated through every crevice in his brain. It was an awful sound, shattering and guttural. He didn't know whose it was, but it stuck with him.

He finished writing down the snippet, shutting the notebook closed and placing it on his bedside table. If he went back to sleep, he feared that he would be plagued with another nightmare. James laid down on his back, hands crossed over his stomach as he stared at the ceiling, trying desperately to grasp onto his memories.

Authors Note:

For some reason, this was a really hard chapter to write! Still, I hoped you all liked it because it was filled with Ella and Bucky!

Don't forget to review!