Bucky didn't want to go to therapy. He would much prefer to spend his Saturday morning doing anything but going to therapy to talk about how he was coping in his new life and how he was trying to make amends for what he had done in the past. Talking about it meant reliving what he had gone through and he didn't enjoy that. He lived in the past, of course, he did, but that past was the 1940s when he was with Steve. It was when he had been a good man, or so he liked to think.

"Why don't you tell me about the nightmares?" his psychiatrist asked him.

He looked over to her and shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly, shifting around on the grey sofa, leaning back and clasping his hands on his thighs. "I didn't have a nightmare," he informed her.

She rolled her eyes and Bucky wondered if all therapists were this sassy with their patients or if he was just a special case. He kept silent, remaining stoic and gripping his thighs tightly.

"You know that these sessions are for you, right?" she double-checked with him. "They are for you to talk to me so that we can get to the root of things."

"And if I don't want to get to the root of things?" Bucky responded, shooting a question back to her. He knew that he couldn't be the easiest patient to deal with, but he didn't want to be there.

"Then you won't change or adapt," she responded as if it were simple and she wrote something down in her book. Bucky took his turn to roll his eyes at her movement. He found that so passive aggressive. She always wrote something down when he was being difficult, thinking that it would get a rise out of him. Usually it did, but today he didn't bother with it. Instead he let his mind wander for a few moments.

"No comment on the notebook," she observed.

He shrugged once more. "Would a comment stop you from writing something down?" he wondered from her.

"You were thinking of something else," she said and Bucky looked to the ceiling, not enjoying being analysed for one minute. "What were you thinking about?"

"Nothing."

"Don't lie to me," she demanded from him. "I know when you are lying. You seem even more distracted than usual…and you're not snapping at me for what I usually do."

"What do you want to know?" Bucky asked from her.

"I want to know what has you so distracted."

Bucky looked to the ceiling once more and his therapist shook her head and began to write down. This time James did groan loudly and he looked over to where she was sat, her gaze set firmly down on her notebook and he finally cracked. He couldn't handle an hour of this. He couldn't handle an hour of her simply writing. So he spoke.

"Evelyn." He spoke her name so simply and he swore that he shocked his doctor. Her face almost faltered and she closed her notebook, placing her pen in the middle of it and waiting for more of an explanation from him.

"Evelyn," she repeated her name and Bucky couldn't help but think how odd it sounded coming from someone else's mouth. She picked up her mug of tea from the table next to her and sipped on it. "Who is Evelyn?"

"A woman."

"I could have guessed that," she said and almost reached for her notebook, but Bucky cracked and began talking again.

"She works at the Air and Space Museum," he said and she returned her hands to her lap, seemingly placated that she was getting somewhere with him. "She is the curator of the Captain America exhibit. I visited it for a few weeks; trying to gain an understanding of the man I was and remember what Steve saw in me…and she…she brought me a bottle of water. We got talking and she recognised who I was."

"So you found a friend?" she pushed from him.

"I don't know," Bucky replied, not sure what Evelyn was to him. "I have been out with her a few times and we just talked…we ate pizza…we had Chinese food…I walked her home and we're meeting again tonight."

"So…when was the first time you went out with her?"

"We didn't go out," Bucky said, ignoring the connotations. "But it was Thursday night."

"So," the doctor continued, "you went for pizza on Thursday and then Chinese food last night. And then tonight you are meeting her again?"

"Yeah, and?" Bucky pushed her.

She shrugged and tilted her head to the side. "Seems pretty intense. And she was happy with all of this?"

Bucky gritted his teeth together. "Well I didn't hold her hostage and demand for her to come with me," Bucky said and his therapist held her hands up defensively. "I gave her an option to stay away from me, but she wants to hang out with me. She wants to be around me."

"And you want to be around her?"

Bucky took a few moments to think, feeling his mouth dry out for a few seconds before he gulped. Nodding his head, he agreed with that. "Yes," he said. "I like her."

"I see."

Bucky sighed loudly. "And what is that supposed to mean?"

"Well," she said and folded one leg over the other as Bucky ran his gloved hands along his thighs. "You have been coming to these sessions for over a month and in that time you have been on internet dates and not discussed any of them except for the fact that they had been terrible. Now you come in here and tell me more about someone you have just met than anyone you have known before."

"Because you pressured me into it," Bucky said. "It was either tell you about her or watch you write everything down in that notebook."

"Do you see her being a friend?" she pushed him.

"I've only really had one true friend."

"And he is gone," she reminded him and Bucky swore that hit him in the chest where it hurt. "I know that you don't want to move on, but you have to move on eventually. You need to build new relationships and this is a start. This woman-"

"-Evelyn," Bucky interrupted, playing with the gloves on his fingertips.

"Evelyn," she corrected herself. "If she knows who you are and still accepts you then that could be the start of something."

"Perhaps," was all that Bucky offered.

"Unless you fancy her?"

Bucky's eyes widened. "Jeez, doc," he complained and he swore that he saw her lips twitch at his sudden outburst.

"Why is that such an absurd question when you have already been dating?" she wondered from him. "It is a simple question really. Do you think that you like her more than a friend? Are you attracted to her?"

"We're not doing this."

"And why not?"

"Because she deserves better," Bucky snapped without restraining himself and she observed him patiently. He peered down to the ground and leant forwards, shaking his head and closing his eyes. "I've known her a few days and I already know that she deserves someone normal…someone who won't complicate her life…and that isn't me. But I want to spend time with her. I just can't get too close to her."

She was silent then, not sure how to respond to his sudden outburst. James never showed emotion, not really. The only emotion he showed was annoyance with her when she said something he didn't like or dared to write about him in her notebook.

"And if you think you should not be getting close to her then do you honestly think that hanging out with her is the right thing to do?" she asked from him.

"Probably not," he said in a snarky voice.

"I would agree," she said, "but I would also warn you not to close yourself off too soon. You might not think that you are allowed to move on, but you can. You are allowed a chance at redemption, but it is down to you to make it count. Just don't be too hasty in making decisions."

Bucky looked down to his watch then and nodded. Glancing to the doctor, he arched a brow. "Hours up," he said. "I have to go."

She nodded. "I will see you same time next week."

"Yippee," he mumbled and stood up, leaving the office without another word and feeling more pent up than when he had first gone to the session.

….

Bucky stood outside the bar and peered inside. Evelyn had suggested this bar in the middle of town that she had been to a couple of times. Bucky had said that he would meet her there. Looking in he could see why she had picked the place. It was busy, but not overly busy. There were stools against a white bar, bottles of liquor lined up on glass shelves behind it. There were booths that were more secluded as well, couples and friends drinking cocktails in fancy glasses.

He watched Evelyn for a few moments, seeing her sat on a stool at the bar. She had a small black bag on the surface in front of her. Her phone was there too and she thanked a bartender as he handed her a red looking cocktail and a bottle of beer. It was the same beer he had drank the past two nights they had gone out.

She had tied her hair into a high ponytail, letting it dangle down her back. Her glasses framed her face and she wore a long, black skirt with a plain black shirt tucked into it. Bucky shook his head as he watched her glance down to her phone.

He shouldn't be doing this. His life was a mess. He woke up every night sweating and screaming. He was barely able to talk about his feelings. He closed himself off. He wasn't a good person and she was. She deserved a better friend than him. But then she turned around. She turned around just as he was about to leave her alone and she saw him. She smiled that warm, genuine smile and waved to him. And he knew that was it. He was going in there regardless of anything.

Stepping into the bar, the soft hum of music played over the speakers and into the room. He headed towards her and wondered what the right way to greet her would be. He didn't know and thankfully she made the first move. She slid the beer towards the empty seat and he climbed onto it.

"I got you a beer," she said. "I hope that's okay. I can get you something else if you would rather?"

"Beer's fine," he promised her, slipping out of his leather jacket and revealing his long black jumper. "Thanks," he remembered his manners.

"So how was your day?" Evelyn asked him and she sipped on her cocktail.

"Remarkably dull," he said to her. "I had therapy this morning and then I went for a run."

"You're a runner?" she asked from him.

"I work out when I can," he said. "It helps distract my mind more than anything."

"I get that," she agreed with him. "I try to run every other day, but I doubt that I would be able to keep up with you. Do I even want to know your quickest speed?"

Bucky smirked and sipped on his beer. "Sub three minute mile," he said and her eyes widened and he chuckled as she laughed and shook her head, her ponytail flowing behind her as she made the movement.

"We are definitely not running together," she said to him. "You would lap me…like…almost three times with that speed."

"So is that you?" he asked from her. "Running and working?"

Evelyn took another sip of her cocktail. She shrugged and looked to him as she toyed with the rim of her glass, running her finger along it. She moved to peer into the depths of her drink, eyes wide as she smiled sadly. "I know it's a boring existence," she said to him. "And sometimes I do want more, but the problem is that I don't know what more I want…I mean it would be nice to see my friends more, I guess, but they have their own lives. They moved onto new things…husbands…babies…you kind of get left behind. And I'm happy for them, really I am. I'm just at a different stage in life to them."

And then she realised who she was talking to her. Looking back to Bucky, she was slightly aghast and she moved a hand out. "Sorry," she said, "I know that must sound ridiculous to someone who really is at a different stage in life."

"It doesn't sound all that ridiculous," he responded. "You know, when Steve left I felt lost. He was the only one who understood what it meant to come from a different time. We were on the same path and without him I do feel alone. I feel alone because no one can know what we went through."

Evelyn nodded and Bucky finished his beer, asking the bartender for another bottle and whatever Evelyn was having as she finished off the last dregs of her drink. Once he had done that, she moved over to take hold of his arm that he had draped on the bar.

"I don't know what it was like," she told him, "and no amount of reading books will ever be able to replicate or make me understand, but I am a good listener if you ever need anyone to talk to."

"Thank you," Bucky told her earnestly. "I'm getting that from you."

"Oh yeah?" she challenged him. "What else are you getting from me?"

Bucky arched a brow and Evelyn shook her head firmly, holding up a finger as his lips arched upwards. "No," she said firmly, her own smile forming and a blush creeping onto her cheeks. "I didn't mean it like that."

"Course not," Bucky couldn't help but comment.

"I meant, what else did you think about me when you met me," she pushed him, hitting his arm as he continued to chuckle at her. The bartender returned with their drinks and Evelyn rolled her eyes as Bucky continued smirking, but finally answered her question.

"You have this natural warmth around you," Bucky said to her. "I mean, when I saw you at the museum and working whenever I left I saw determination there. You take your job seriously. But then I saw you with that man as well…the one on the door."

"Charlie," she said his name.

"The way you sat with him some nights when I saw you was kind. You laughed with him and he looked happy in your company…and bringing me water…him coffee…and offering to take me for pizza, a man old enough to be your grandfather with a lack of social skills…well…it showed me that you're a good person."

"That's sweet," Evelyn said, having no other word to describe what she had just heard from Bucky.

"Just truthful," he promised her. "So go on, what did you think of me?"

"Broody," she said seriously and Bucky wondered if she was joking. After a second her shrill laugh told him that she was. She sipped on her drink while shaking her head. "No, I thought that you were…well, if I have to be honest, sad," she said and Bucky realised how tragic he must have looked to her. "I would be sad too if I had lost my best friend and everyone else who I had loved. I understood that. And I…I saw someone who had been through a lot and was struggling to adjust. And I figured that if I could help then I would, but I didn't know if I overstepped the mark that first night I asked you to pizza."

"You didn't," he promised her.

"Well, I'm glad," she responded. "Because I have to say that drinking with company is better than drinking alone on a Saturday night."

"I think we can toast to that," Bucky said.

"To being lonely," she said, holding her glass up.

"And finding someone else," Bucky clinked his beer bottle against her glass.

He asked her how her day had been and they lapsed into conversation again. He kept ordering them drinks and they continued sipping on them. It was only once Evelyn was on her sixth cocktail did she feel the sudden urge to use the bathroom. She slipped from the stool and Bucky watched her almost stumble in her heels. He held an arm out, ready to steady her before she wandered off for the bathroom. He saw the six empty beer bottles and remembered that she wasn't like him. She could get drunk. He had just kept ordering drinks for them without thinking. He paid the tab and waited for her to come back, slipping into his jacket after sensing that she might have had enough.

"My head is woozy," Evelyn complained once she had returned, hauling herself onto her seat.

Bucky turned to look at the bartender. "Can I get some water?" he asked.

Evelyn had zoned out for a moment, but when she looked to Bucky she spoke earnestly. "You know when my boss was being a creep the other night?" she checked with him and he nodded. "All I did was say no sweetly when he offered me a ride…like I didn't want to offend him…and that really pisses me off."

"Whoa, curse words," Bucky said and Evelyn shrugged.

"I wish I had told him to fuck off," she said and Bucky watched her. "Or just punched him in the face. That would have felt satisfying. You know, just punching him."

She balled her hand into a fist, but she had arranged her fingers and thumb all wrong. Bucky shook his head and finished his beer as the bartender brought the glass of water.

"That's not how you throw a punch," Bucky told her, moving his hands out and letting his fingers arrange hers correctly. She kept her hand into a fist and Bucky held his hand up, palm flat towards hers. Nodding once, he sat back. "Punch my hand."

She did so, but the motion barely moved his hand. He shook his head. "You can do better than that," he urged her. "Really put some force into it."

"With pleasure," she said, but as she pulled her arm back, her elbow bumped into the man behind her, hitting him in the back. He startled and spilled his drink down his white shirt, jumping up and placing his glass down on the bar as he moved. He flapped his arms out and looked over to her, wondering what had just happened.

Evelyn turned around and Bucky stood up then.

"I am so sorry," she said apologetically to him.

"This is a new suit," he complained.

"She said she was sorry, man," Bucky told him.

"She's drunk and embarrassing herself," he responded. "You'd do well to keep your girl under control."

"Excuse me?" Bucky demanded, voice terse.

Evelyn slipped from her seat then too, grabbing hold of Bucky's arm before he could make a move. He glanced down to her and she shook her head, seeing the anger in his gaze. Instead she grabbed her coat and bag, draping them over her arm.

"Come on," she said to Bucky and made a move to leave.

Bucky followed her, walking behind her, but this guy had to have the last say. Bucky knew their type.

"I should make the dumb bitch pay for my dry cleaning," he complained to his friends.

Bucky's hand balled into a fist, but he wasn't the one who reacted. Evelyn was the one who turned around and punched the man square in the jaw. Bucky's eyes widened in shock as gasps echoed through the bar and Evelyn grabbed her hand while the man's head turned to the side. The bartender demanded from them to break it up and Bucky took Evelyn's arm, leading her outside before the man could retaliate.

"Ow, ow, ow," she complained, grabbing hold of her hand as she dropped her bag to the floor. Bucky picked it up and held it in his hand. "You could've warned me that would hurt."

"I didn't think you would punch someone tonight," Bucky defended himself. "Let me look at your hand."

She swayed in her heels and Bucky took her hand, noting that it was red. He nodded as she moved her hand from his fingers and tried to slip into her coat. Considering she had it inside out, she wasn't getting into it anytime soon. Bucky moved to help her into it and she almost stumbled as she took a step forward.

"Whoa," he said and kept her bag in his hand while his other arm went to her waist, holding her upright. She lolled around in his grip and Bucky saw her pale. "I think you're drunk."

"How are you not?" she asked him.

"I don't get drunk," he said. "It is the benefit of being a super soldier. Come on, I'll get you home and you can sleep it off. We also need to ice that hand."

"Yes, Sergeant," she said and saluted him as Bucky's lips arched.

He walked slowly with her, keeping her upright. They were only a block from her apartment when she stopped walking and held a hand up. She stood up straight and before Bucky had chance to ask her what was wrong, she was doubling over and vomiting into a drain. Bucky startled at the sight and once she had finished coughing, he caught hold of her as she stumbled again.

"I don't feel well," she complained.

"No kidding," he responded. "Come on, we're almost there."

Once they were outside of her apartment, he looked for the keys in her bag, finding them quickly. He used the key fob on the main door, stepping into the foyer of the building with sleek tiled floors. He practically dragged Evelyn to the elevator. The concierge on the front desk stood up, clearly looking concerned.

"Miss Morris," he spoke, "are you okay?"

"Oh, Boris," she slurred slightly, "don't worry. This is Bucky. He's my friend."

"I see," the man named Boris spoke.

"He helped me start a fight in a bar," Evelyn laughed and Bucky sighed, looking to the man.

"She's drunk and I am just bringing her home safely," Bucky said.

"He is," Evelyn agreed, "honestly, Boris, he is my friend…I think," she said, looking at Bucky. "Are we friends?"

"Yes," Bucky responded. "Come on."

"See to it you look after her," Boris said. "I have your name and face," he motioned to the CCTV cameras. Bucky nodded at the man. He suspected it was sweet. He was looking out for Evelyn. If only he knew that Bucky could erase CCTV in seconds. But still, the sentiment was there.

He pressed for the elevator and waited for it to come down. "What floor?" he asked her, even though he knew from his night's watching her.

The doors pinged open and Evelyn entered, hitting the control panel quickly. "Five," she said, but she pressed seven instead. Bucky sighed and pressed five, but the elevator was already going to seven. Evelyn moved slightly, wobbling again as Bucky adjusted her against his side. Once the elevator pinged at seven, the doors opened to reveal a young man with a backpack. He looked at the sight and Bucky shrugged.

"I'd wait for the next one."

"Agreed," he said and Bucky hit five once more and the elevator descended.

Once he had Evelyn in her apartment, he tossed her bag on the kitchen worktop and deposited her on the sofa. He grabbed her a glass of water and went back to her. She was slumped on the sofa, kicking her heels off her feet and pulling her hair from its ponytail. Bucky crouched in front of her, offering her the water. "Drink this," he urged and she gulped it down quickly. "Do you still feel sick?"

"Yes," she said and closed her eyes.

"Right," Bucky stood up once more and went to find some kind of bowl. He rummaged in her cupboards before coming back, grabbing an ice pack and towel on his way. He gave Evelyn the bowl and she pressed it to her stomach as he wrapped the ice into a towel and placed it on her knuckles.

She was sick after a moment and Bucky reached for her hair, pulling it back from her face as she emptied the contents of her stomach.

"This is your fault," she blamed him in a hoarse voice.

"I accept full responsibility," he agreed with her, wondering if she would be angry with him.

But she wasn't. "Then you're making it up to me…when I think of what I want."

She slumped back against the seat and Bucky took the bowl, cleaning it out and coming back to the sofa. But Evelyn's eyes were already closed. Bucky sighed and moved her cushions to one end of the seat, adjusting her so that she was resting against them. He moved the blanket from where it was draped over a stool and rested it over her. Once he had placed the clean bowl and another glass of water on her coffee table, he considered leaving. But Evelyn stirred.

"Are you going?" she asked him groggily.

"I should," he responded.

"Don't," was all she said and even then Bucky wasn't sure he heard her right. She was already falling asleep and he contemplated leaving. But he moved a hand to stroke her hair back from her head, removing his glove in the process so that he could actually feel her soft tresses against his skin. She sighed and whispered his name, the "Bucky" so tender from her voice. And that made his mind up. Settling down in the chair across from her, he swore to stay the night and watch over her. It wasn't out of a sense of duty. It was because he genuinely cared.

…..

A/N: Thanks so much to everyone has reviewed and followed. Hope you enjoyed this one. Let me know your thoughts/suggestions!